


Our Moments Through Time

by lj_todd



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 30 Word Prompt Challenge, Beginnings, Child, Cold, Confrontation, Cuddle, Death, Family, Formal, Future, Letters, M/M, Nightmare, Promise, Quiet, Red - Freeform, Restless, Scars, Shirt, Snowflake - Freeform, Summer, Thanks, Transformation, Voice, companion - Freeform, flame, kneel, mate, move, outside, scent, silver - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 20:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 44,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lj_todd/pseuds/lj_todd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They shared moments, flashes of memories, together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> So I originally posted this collection as a series of individual stories a while back but took them down in order to post them all together in one place.

Everyone assumed Stiles first meeting with Peter Hale had been the night in the hospital when he and Derek and first figured out that Peter was the Alpha. But everyone was wrong, not that Stiles would ever correct them or anything, but it was still the wrong assumption.

No, Stiles met Peter nearly three years before Scott was ever bitten. Before he ever learned werewolves were real. Before his life got turned upside down and shoved through a freaking blender that shredded his understanding of the world. He met Peter the same day his mom was moved into the hospital. He'd gone to visit her after school, carrying a small bouquet of wild flowers and, in typical Stiles fashion, had gotten himself turned around and wandered into the wrong room.

He stood there for a moment, confused and a bit freaked out, staring at the man in the wheelchair, the man whose face was partially covered in burns. His heart had leapt up into his throat and while some part of him screamed that he should just turn around and leave. But he found himself walking forward, slowly crossing the room. He swallowed nervously as he stopped just a few feet from the chair.

The man hadn't moved. Hadn't looked up. Just sat there. Eyes staring ahead yet not looking at any one thing. It was like the lights were on but no one was home.

Stiles bit his lower lip, debating if this was a good idea, before he slowly inched closer. "Umm...sir?"

Nothing. Not even the slightest twitch of movement.

Once he was closer, close enough to touch really, he found himself slowly sinking into the chair that had been set out. Either the guy had had a visitor recently or was expecting someone. He tried to smile, just in case the man knew what was going on around him, but fell short despite his best attempts. He carefully laid the flowers for his mom on his knee, not wanting anything to happen to them, and drew a shaky breath.

"You...uh...you don't know me...but...uh...I guess...umm..." Stiles rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "I don't even know why...I mean...I just kind of wandered in...and well...I don't...see I came to see my mom. She's...She's real sick and they moved her...here but...they don't think she's going to...uh...she's not..."

The words quickly died in his throat and Stiles blinked the tears away. He looked away from the man, trying to occupy his mind for a moment, just to push the fear and pain down so he didn't break down and start bawling like a child. And that's when he noticed the vase of flowers on the little bedside table. They were old, withered and dead, something placed there long ago and forgotten. He wondered then if that's what had happened to this man. Abandoned here because he wasn't whole. Because he wasn't who he might have been before.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Stiles looked back at the man, focusing on his face, despite the queasy feeling in his stomach at the sight of the scars. 

"You don't get a lot of visitors, huh?" Stiles ran a finger over one of the flowers meant for his mom. "That's...it's not cool. It...It shouldn't matter how you look...you...should still have someone come...someone to...I don't know...talk to you...I guess..."

His phone suddenly chirped and he wrestled it out of his pocket, a text from his dad asking where he was. He drew a deep breath and quickly texted back. A little white lie about having just gotten to the hospital. He tucked the phone back into his pocket, not moving to stand or leave the room. He looked again at the dead flowers on the table, then back at the man. Standing up he carefully took the dead flowers from the vase and replaced them with the ones he'd intended to give to his mom. She'd understand.

He quickly tossed the dead flowers into the garbage can before turning back and smiling at the man again. "So I...I got to go see my mom...for a bit but...uh...maybe I can...I can come back some afternoon and...I dunno...read to you maybe..."

There was no reaction but Stiles felt like the man understood anyways. He touched the man's hand, the one that wasn't burned, and smiled again. "So...yeah...I'll come back tomorrow...and...and read to you." His smile widened a bit. "I promise."

He gave the man's hand a squeeze hoping that it was felt or at least that the man knew he was offering some comfort. After that he turned and walked out of the room, doing the smart thing and asking a nurse for directions to his mom's room.

For nearly three months he kept his promise. He went every day to see his mom for a few hours before he slid silently into that man's room to read to him. Stiles used the book they were reading in English class, because he wasn't much of a reader and usually his reading material leaned towards comic books. It took a few weeks of that before a nurse mentioned the man's name was Peter and that it was nice to see him have a visitor. For nearly three months he went and read to Peter, sat and chatted, even if there was never a response.

But then, one evening, when he was halfway through the newest book, Stiles heard his mom's room being mentioned over the hospital intercom and something about a code blue. He knew, from spending so much time in the hospital, what it meant. The book fell from Stiles' hands as he leapt up, rushing from the room and for his mom's. His dad was already there, catching him before he could get into the room, before he could get to his mom. Holding him. Protecting him.

That night his mom died.

That night he stopped going to the hospital all together.

He knew he should have gone, just to tell Peter why he wouldn't be there any more, but the memories, the grief and sorrow, were drowning him as effectively as water would and he just couldn't do it. So instead he stopped doing anything that would remind him that there was a great big hole in his heart. Part of him screamed that he wasn't doing the right thing, and that he was no different than whoever had previously abandoned Peter, but he just couldn't risk anymore suffering. He couldn't.

Stiles never knew that Peter's nurse had picked up his book, had carefully placed it in the drawer of Peter's bedside table and there it sat until the day that Peter found himself healed enough to move. On that day Peter took the book from the bedside table and flipped through it, the scent laced into the pages from the boy who'd held it was faint, barely there anymore, but it brought a small smile to Peter's face. Reminded him that, for a time, someone had cared.

So the night in the hospital, when he'd come face to face with Stiles again, he'd seen the recognition, the understanding in the boy's eyes and he'd known, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he wanted the boy in his pack. Bitten or not. This was just the beginning.


	2. Scent

Scott kept staring at him.

Like seriously staring at him.

The kind of staring that said _I know something you don't want me to know_.

And it was starting to creep Stiles out because he had no idea what it was that Scott seemed to think he knew. Every time he looked over at his best friend, Scott was staring at him intently, eyes narrowed and mouth drawn into a frown that had nothing to do with confusion over the lesson of the day. Stiles would quickly avert his gaze, which in Scott's mind was probably confirmation that something was up, but he just didn't know what else to do.

It was chemistry class before Stiles realized that it wasn't just Scott looking at him weird. Jackson and Isaac were too. They had similar looks as Scott, though there were varying degrees of difference between all three. Where Scott's was almost accusing in its intensity, Jackson's was a mix of disbelieving and knowing, while Isaac's was just plain shock. 

But just like with Scott, Stiles had no idea why they were looking at him like that. It wasn't like he'd changed his appearance lately, nor was he acting any differently, besides trying to determine why they were all acting so freaking nuts.

Halfway through class, when Harris had to step out for some reason, Stiles finally had enough. Swinging around in his seat he glared, or rather tried to glare, at the trio of nutballs, who were still staring at him. "Okay, what the heck is with all of you?!" He managed to keep his voice down but the sharpness was still there. "You keep staring at me like I've suddenly gone and sprouted a second head or something! What's up with that?!"

Scott and Isaac exchanged a look before they both looked at Jackson, who hadn't stopped staring at Stiles. Scott cleared his throat and finally dropped his gaze. "It's...well..." He glanced at Isaac who merely shrugged as though he didn't know how to put their thoughts into words any better than Scott. "Umm...it's..."

Stiles felt his annoyance slowly turning to anger as Scott continued to fumble for the words, but before he could say anything to try and hurry the process up, Jackson spoke up.

"Dude, how long have you and Peter been a thing?"

Stiles' brain short circuited for a moment while Scott and Isaac both hissed at Jackson. Scott growled Jackson's name in a warning tone while Isaac told him to shut up that it wasn't their business. Jackson started to defend himself when Stiles' brain came back on line and he couldn't stop himself from blurting out.

"You think Peter and I are a thing?!"

Silence fell over the classroom and Stiles glanced around to realize that everyone had heard him and were looking at him curiously. He shrank down a bit in his seat, face turning red, and he pointedly ignored the curious look Danny shot his way. He glared as best he could at the three werewolves. "Are you all out of your freaking minds?!" He was quieter than before but his words were still icy. "Why would you think that?!"

Scott and Isaac exchanged another look.

"Because you smell like him," Isaac murmured, shrugging slightly as Scott and Jackson both nodded.

"Not that we're judging," Jackson interjected quickly. "It's just that...well...you sort of reek. Couldn't you have at least taken a shower after the sex?"

Isaac's growled was dwarfed by Scott's. "Do you not have a brain?" Scott's eyes momentarily flashed gold as he snapped at Jackson. "If he goes and tells Peter what do you think is going to happen, huh? Or have you conveniently forgotten that Peter is, in fact, an Alpha?"

"I haven't forgotten anything," Jackson fired back as he glanced at Stiles and then back at Scott. "I think Stilinski's done very well for himself. Nabbing an Alpha. Only a matter of time now before he's like us."

"You all think I'm having sex with Peter?!"

Stiles' voice once again reached a higher volume and, because he was turned to face the three idiot werewolves he called friends, he didn't notice Harris had returned in time for his little outburst.

"Mr Stilinski."

Stiles whipped around in his seat, suddenly very aware of the cold, stony gaze fixed to him. "Uh..." He couldn't think of anything witty to say, anything to try and defuse the situation.

"Mr Stilinski," Harris strolled slowly, purposefully, to his desk and sat slowly. "While you may believe it important to share your sexual exploits with the class, I do not share the same sentiment. So, to rectify this problem, detention."

Stiles' head hit his desk with a dull thud.

_oOoOoOo_

By the time Harris let Stiles go from detention, he was in a foul mood, stomping through the halls of the school to the parking lot. He was fishing in his pocket for his keys when he realized that Scott and Isaac were waiting by his Jeep. Glaring at them, it was their fault he'd been in detention after all, he slowly walked over. "Will one of you," he said slowly, as though talking to a five year old, looking from one to the other. "Kindly explain to me why exactly you think I'm having sex with Peter freaking Hale?!"

Isaac looked at Scott before clearing his throat. "Well...you...you smell like him."

Stiles blinked, waiting for more of an explanation, but none came.

"Uh...have you idiots not noticed that I probably smell like you and the rest of the pack too? I spend an unhealthy amount of time around all of you."

Scott shook his head suddenly. "No...it's...it's a different sort of scent. Like...umm..."

"Like when Scott and Allison were together."

Scott shot Isaac a cold glare but the younger wolf just shrugged. Stiles slowly drew a breath, held it, counted to ten and then spoke. "So you're saying I smell like sex?"

A quick head shake from both Scott and Isaac.

"Jackson just went with sex because he doesn't...fully understand what he's been doing with Lydia."

Stiles blinked. "Say what now?"

Scott sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, clearly uncomfortable but knowing that he had to man up and tell Stiles. "When I was with Allison, I used to scent her."

Stiles just blinked. "Okay...that means what exactly for us non-wolf people?"

Isaac snorted. "Like wild wolves werewolves are pretty territorial about their mates or potential mates. We scent mark them so others know to back the hell off. Scott did it will Allison. Jackson does it with Lydia. Hell even Erica and Boyd are doing it. And now..."

Isaac trailed off only to have Scott pick up his line of thought.

"Now Peter seems to be doing it to you."

Stiles inhaled slowly, silently counted to ten, twice, and then proceeded to freak out. It took ten minutes for Scott and Isaac to calm him down, only when he did, he climbed behind the wheel of his Jeep, not surprised when both wolves leapt into the cab as well. He started his baby up and tore out of the lot, having only one destination in mind. From the corner of his eye he saw Scott and Isaac exchange worried glances but he ignored them both.

Pulling up outside the newly renovated Hale house, Stiles threw the Jeep into park before leaping out, heading for the door even as he heard Isaac ask Scott if they should stop him. He didn't catch Scott's reply, already barging through the door. Erica, who'd been coming down the stairs, stopped, looking at him in surprise. It might have been due to the look on his face or the rapid pounding of his heart, but she didn't say anything as he turned and headed for the living room, hearing Derek talking.

The minute he stepped into the spacious room Derek glanced over, acknowledged his presence before continuing to discuss something with Boyd, Jackson and Lydia. Sitting at the desk in the corner was Peter, laptop open in front of him. Stiles' gaze narrowed as he crossed the room. "You! Psycho Wolf!" He pointed directly at Peter who glanced up, eyebrow raised in that mocking way he had. "I want a word."

"Of course, Stiles," Peter leaned back in his chair, clearly thinking this conversation was one Stiles wanted to have in front of the pack given how he'd stormed in and just demanded to talk.

"Kitchen. Now."

Stiles turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen, hands clenched into fists at his side. He stepped through the swinging door and heard Derek ask what was going on. Peter said he had no idea and Stiles' minimal control over his mouth shattered like glass. "Did I freaking stutter?!" He pushed the kitchen door open enough to shout back into the living room. "Now means now!"

As the door closed he moved to stand by the counter and waited. It wasn't twenty seconds later that Peter was stepping into the kitchen. "What seems to be the problem, Stiles?"

"You! You're the problem!"

Peter frowned. "I don't..."

"Have you been freaking scent marking me?! Without even mentioning it?!"

Peter's frown slowly morphed into a small smile. "Someone said something, didn't they?"

"Jackson asked me how long we'd been screwing!"

Peter's smile wavered, eyes flashing red for the briefest of moments, but then he relaxed, looking no different than he had when first entering the kitchen. "Scent marking is about more than..."

"Yeah, Isaac mentioned something about potential mates or...or something like that."

In the blink of an eye Peter was across the kitchen, crowding into Stiles' personal space, which had become rather typical as of late. "That's right," the Alpha said, leaning down and nuzzling at Stiles' neck, breathing across it lightly. "Does it bother you?"

Stiles made a low sound and tried to find the words to tell Peter to back the hell up but when the Alpha continued to nuzzle, to scent mark, he just couldn't seem to do more than stand there and let Peter do it. A low rumble from Peter had Stiles making a soft sound, hands lifting to clutch at the Alpha's arms. Another rumble and Peter was nuzzling harder, pushing more of his scent into Stiles skin.

They remained like that for what felt like forever, only parting when Derek shouted that the kitchen was for cooking and eating, not for having sex or whatever it was they were doing. Peter stepped back, staring down at Stiles, who stared right back. With one of those small smiles, Peter reached up, trailing his fingertips over the whisker burn he'd left on Stiles' neck. If his scent hadn't been enough to say Stiles was his, the mark certainly would.

"Shall we rejoin them?" Peter gestured and Stiles, still a bit out of it, merely nodded before stumbling out into the living room, Peter following right behind.

Stiles noticed how everyone seemed to take one look at him before looking away. Scott, Isaac, Erica and Boyd all grinned knowingly. Derek just rolled his eyes and continued talking to Boyd about something but Jackson smirked smugly and before Lydia could tell him not to the beta spoke up.

"I certainly hope you cleaned the counter off, Stilinski."

Stiles glared and started to take a step forward, momentarily forgetting that Jackson was no longer just the asshole jock, only to make a startled sound when Peter wrapped his arms around him, pulling him back. "Let me..." Stiles' words died in his throat when Peter unexpectedly nuzzled his neck, rumbling loudly. Stiles wasn't sure why but he whimpered and let his body rest back against Peter's. Maybe there was more to this whole scenting thing than he'd been told. He was almost completely mellowed out when he heard Lydia speak.

"So is that why you nuzzle me all the time, Jackson? To turn me into a pile of goo?"


	3. Restless

Peter leapt from the ground to the second floor with ease. He knew Scott had dropped Stiles off nearly an hour ago, had scented the young Beta's lingering scent the moment he'd neared the house, but he also knew that Scott was currently talking strategy with Derek. Trying to find a way to deal with the Alpha Pack. He really should have been there but he had other concerns right now. Scott and Stiles had had a close call, too close according to Scott, with a few members of the Alpha Pack and apparently Stiles hadn't faired quite so well.

Without a sound Peter slid through the open window, not surprised to find Stiles at his desk, hands skittering over the polished metal and glass surface. The Alpha wolf frowned as he watched Stiles body. Twitches, jerks and the inability to keep still. Stiles' phone sat on the desk, a few inches from his hand, at the ready in case Scott or Lydia called, seeking help. But Peter knew that Stiles wouldn't be much help to anyone. Not right now. He could smell the adrenaline, the fear, and the scent of the two Alphas who had dared to lay hands on a member of his pack.

Suppressing the urge to hunt them down and rip them apart, Peter focused instead on Stiles, on the fact that a pack member was hurting and had been left alone to deal with the hurt when he should have been helped. He'd be having a conversation with Scott later about that too, just because Stiles looked fine didn't mean he was and Scott should have known that. Should have seen what Peter could so easily see.

"Stiles."

The teenager jerked, startled by the sudden voice, and leapt to his feet, looking ready to run until he realized who was standing by the window. "Jesus Christ," Stiles let out a long exhale of breath, hands shaking at his sides. "Haven't you people ever heard of the front door?"

"Sorry." Peter gave a small shrug, knowing Stiles wouldn't believe he was being sincere. "Old habits."

"Whatever..." Stiles looked away, rubbing a still shaking hand over his face. "What...What do you want?"

"Scott told us what happened."

Stiles stiffened and Peter saw the anger flash in the boy's warm brown eyes. He knew that sort of anger. It was self directed anger. The sort of anger one had when they thought they weren't strong enough. But Peter knew Stiles was strong. Stronger than most humans could ever dream of being. After all, not many humans would challenge an Alpha in the middle of a lacrosse field for said Alpha's bleeding prey.

"Stiles..."

"So I got beat up by a couple of werewolves," Stiles snapped, his voice tight and icy, his body still twitching. "That's not exactly something new. Not for me." He looked down at his hand suddenly, watching it shake.

"Did Scott even ask if you were okay?"

Stiles shot him a dark scowl. "Of course he did!"

Peter drew a slow breath. "I don't mean right after the two of you escaped. I mean did he ask after he got you back here, before he went to Derek. Did he even bother to make certain you were really okay?"

"I'm fine!"

"If you were fine you wouldn't be shaking. You wouldn't smell of restless, nervous energy." Peter took a step forward, not surprised that Stiles instinctively took a step back. It wasn't because Peter was a threat, but because the adrenaline still pulsing through Stiles veins told him to. "Scott should have seen it. Should have smelled it. He shouldn't have left you alone, Stiles."

"I said I'm fine!"

Peter caught the book in midair, not surprised that Stiles had thrown the nearest object at him, the look on Stiles' face said if he kept pushing more things would be thrown. Setting the book on the nearest flat surface, Peter looked directly at Stiles, blue eyes meeting brown. "If you're fine then sit down and be still," the Alpha wolf said as he gestured to the desk chair. "Sit and be still for five minutes. No fidgeting. No touching anything. Just sit."

Stiles opened his mouth and closed it several times before he finally whispered "I can't."

"I know." Peter's reply was soft, his tone full of comfort and gentleness he rarely showed. "I know, Stiles."

"It's...It's never been like this." Stiles shook his head, clenching his hands into fists to try and stop the tremors. "I've gone...through hell and it's never...not like this...never..."

"You were attacked by two Alphas, Stiles, and you know what the price of surviving that can be."

Stiles' eyes became distant for a minute and Peter knew the boy was thinking back to that night, oh so long ago, in the parking garage when he'd offered the bite. Offered Stiles the chance to be just as good, better even, than Scott. Now Peter found himself wishing he hadn't given Stiles the chance to pull away. He wished he'd given the bite. He wished he'd turned the boy just so he'd have stood a better chance against those Alphas.

"I want it to stop," Stiles whisper was barely audible, even for Peter's werewolf hearing. "I just...I want to be...to be still..."

In the blink of an eye, Peter was standing within touching distance of Stiles, who made a weak sound of surprise, trying to step back only to have Peter grab hold on his wrist, holding him in place. "You need to work off the energy," the Alpha said calmly, sliding his hand down until it was curled over Stiles' hand, causing the boy to make a fist. "Hit me."

Stiles blinked.

"What?"

"Hit me, Stiles."

"I...I can't...I..."

Peter tightened his grip just a fraction around Stiles' hand. "You can. You need to." He pushed his wolf down when it tried to come to the forefront of his mind, thinking this was some sort of challenge. "You need to take back some of your power and you can't go after those who hurt you tonight, but I'm willing to be a stand in. I'm willing to help you do this."

When Stiles still didn't move, just stood there and stared at him, Peter let out a low rumble. "Do it, Stiles. Or are you the weak, simpering human who two Alphas walked all over tonight?"

The taunting worked, because Stiles' eyes flashed with rage seconds before he took a swing at Peter with his free hand, twisting the other free even as his punch landed square in the Alpha's jaw. Peter didn't flinch. Didn't even grunt. He gave no outward sign of pain as Stiles landed blow after blow. Alternating between lashing out at Peter's face and body. Not to make things too easy, Peter blocked several blows, serving to infuriate the teen, making him work harder to land a single blow.

It didn't take long for Stiles' attempts to becoming nothing more than thumping his fists against Peter's chest, tears streaming down a pale and bruised face. Slender fingers curled in Peter's shirt as sobs tore from Stiles' chest. The Alpha made a low sound, wrapping his arms around the boy, drawing him in close, letting him hide his face in the curve of the werewolf's neck. Peter rubbed soothing circles over Stiles' back, rubbing his cheek against the boy's temple in a gesture meant to offer comfort.

"That's it," he cooed softly, not surprised when Stiles pressed closer to him, trying to soak in as much comfort as possible. The boy was always doing everything he could to help others and Peter suspected it had been a long time since anyone had focused fully on Stiles and his needs. "Just let it out. Let it out."

As Stiles' tears eventually began to slow, Peter lifted the boy, carrying him to the bed, before lying down, still holding him close. Stiles made a soft sound, clutching still to the Alpha wolf, eyes closed and the occasional tear slipping silently down his cheek. They lay like that as Stiles slowly drifted off to sleep, a soft _thank you_ falling sleepily from the teen's lips before he was fully pulled under.

Peter pressed a quick, butterfly soft, kiss to Stiles' forehead in response. As he lay there, listening to Stiles' breathing, he silently planned the best way to protect the boy. Obviously the best solution was to eliminate the Alpha Pack, but that would take time, and he needed a plan that was a bit more _right now_. A small smile graced his face as he determined what was to be done.

Two days later Stiles would overhear his dad talking to one of the deputies about the deaths of two people on the highway, both had their throats cut. When he snooped into the case file, seeing the photographs from the driver's licences, he knew exactly what had happened to them. He didn't say anything to anyone. And if he just happened to make Peter a cup of coffee without being asked or told the next time he was over to the Hale house with Scott well it was just because he was trying to strengthen inner pack relations and nothing more.


	4. Snowflake

Stiles sat by the Jeep, waiting for Scott and Isaac to finish their run. He pulled his jacket a little tighter, ignoring the cold as best he could, and pretending that he wasn't alone, in the middle of the Beacon Hills Preserve, in the mild of the night. He exhaled sharply, breath steaming through the air. He shivered against the cold, wondering how much longer Scott and Isaac were going to be, when he heard something, a branch maybe, snap a few feet to his left.

He stiffened, flipping on his flashlight, and turning slowly to face in the right direction, shining a beam of light through the darkness. He didn't see anything but he'd learned in that in Beacon Hills that didn't often mean much. Walking slowly forward, his flashlight cutting a small path through the darkness, he searched the surrounding area for a sign, any sign, of someone, or something, else being there.

Another step forward and he heard another snap. 

This time behind him.

Whirling around he wiped the flashlight back and forth, trying to illuminate more of the area. "Scott?" He called out as he tried to see through the dark, thinking maybe he and Isaac had gotten back. "Isaac?"

Another snap, behind him once again, made him jump and spin about, the beam of the flashlight flickering around wildly. Heart pounding rapidly, Stiles starting moving backwards, towards the Jeep. He didn't care if Scott and Isaac weren't back yet he was not sticking around to find out what it was that was circling him. He wasn't about to become a chew toy for some big bad monster in the dark. When he heard yet another snap he turn, ready to run for the Jeep, only to let out a rather high pitched cry of surprise when he came face to face with Peter.

"Jesus Christ!" Stiles jerked back a step, glaring at Peter as best he could. "Can't you just announce your presence like a freaking normal person?! You gotta scare the crap out of me?!"

Peter's eyebrow lifted slightly. "I haven't," he said with that smug smile that always made Stiles want to hit the Alpha wolf. "Not yet."

Stiles huffed in annoyance. "Don't be so freaking literally!" He shook his head and scrubbed a hand over his hair, feeling the stubble of it scratch against his palm. "What the hell are you doing, anyways, sneaking around in the dark? Looking to scare me to death? You know Scott wouldn't like that very much."

"Hmm, given Scott's tendency to forget about you I wouldn't hold out much hope."

Shaking his head, Stiles glanced around, hoping to catch sight of Scott and Isaac. All he saw was dark trees wrapped in more darkness. A chilly gust of wind blew through the forest and Stiles couldn't help but shiver, reminded that it was the middle of November and he hadn't exactly worn the right clothing. He heard Peter move and looked back at Alpha just before something warm settled down over his shoulders, Peter's hands pulling it closed around his chest.

Blinking in confusion, Stiles glanced down to see that it was Peter's coat, warmed from the Alpha's body and now wrapped, almost protectively, around Stiles' thin frame. The coat was far too big and Stiles felt slightly like he was swimming in the fabric. He looked at Peter's face, searching for some outward sign to answer the question of _why_. Why had Peter wrapped his coat around him? Werewolf or not the man had to feel the cold.

"Why did you..."

"Because you're cold," Peter said quickly, one hand resting on Stiles' shoulder. "And the cold doesn't bother me quite so much."

Stiles frowned, gazing flickering from the Alpha wolf's face to his clothing. None of it was winter appropriate. Worn, faded jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. Definitely not warm. And Stiles would know because he was wearing practically the same thing. Drawing a slow breath through his nose Stiles opened his mouth, to say something about how they should wait in the Jeep, that way they could turn the heater on, only to have the words stick in his throat when Peter unexpectedly reached up, thumb stroking slowly, gently, along Stiles' cheek.

"Umm..."

Stiles blinked in confusion, not understand the look in Peter's eyes as the Alpha's hand cup his cheek, thumb resting just below his eye, the very spot said thumb had just stroked over.

"Snowflake," Peter said softly, meeting Stiles' gaze with those unwavering blue eyes.

Stiles blinked again and started to say it wasn't even snowing when he noticed the flakes silently floating through the air. Looking back at Peter, Stiles was surprised to find that he could see the snowflakes clinging to the Alpha wolf's eyelashes, making it look like they were dusted with tiny crystals. Stiles found himself transfixed by the sight. The dark lashes speckled with white, framing eyes as blue as any clear summer sky. He would probably never say it aloud but it was rather beautiful.

Peter smiled, listening to Stiles' heart as it began to beat faster, and he rubbed his thumb over the smooth skin of the teenager's cheek again. They stood there and stared at each other, the moment stretch on for what felt like forever, but when Peter heard Scott and Isaac approaching he slowly stepped back, not surprised by the confused look on Stiles' face.

When Stiles finally heard his friends approaching he turned, spotting them through the softly falling snow. _About freaking time,_ he thought as he turned back to Peter, only to find that the Alpha wolf was gone. Looking around quickly yielded no clues and he had just spun in a circle, searching through the darkness for Peter when Scott and Isaac reached him.

"You okay, Stiles?" Scott frowned at him all while Isaac not so subtly sniffed the air, eyeing the coat still wrapped around Stiles.

"Yeah..." Stiles glanced around once before turning and heading for the Jeep. "Can we get outta here now? I'm freezing my butt off."

He heard Scott chuckle as the two werewolves followed him.

Climbing in behind the wheel, keys gripped in his hand, Stiles couldn't help but reach up and touched his cheek, the very spot Peter had touched. He looked out through the windshield, as Scott and Isaac climbed into the cab, watching the falling snow. After a moment he pushed the keys into the ignition and turned them, listening to his baby roar to life as he slid his arms into the sleeves of Peter's coat.

He heard Scott and Isaac talking, something about chasing deer, as he put the Jeep in drive and headed for town but he didn't really pay any mind. As he took his time over the forest roads, he couldn't help but turn his head a little bit, just enough to press his nose against the collar of the borrowed coat and inhaled slowly, drawing in the rich, spicy scent that was Peter's and a small smile spread across his face.


	5. Cuddle

Peter leaned back against the headboard, a book in hand, searching the pages for something that would help against the Alpha Pack. He had already searched through four books and all the information on his laptop and had found nothing. Or rather nothing useful. Legends and rumours concerning the Alpha Pack but nothing concrete. Nothing on how to get them out of Beacon Hills. He grumbled as he turned another page, beginning to think that there was nothing to be found concerning the Alpha Pack, and he was just getting ready to throw the book across the room when the door opened.

He briefly glanced up and watched as Stiles slipped into the room, the book he'd given the teen tucked securely under the boy's arm as well as the laptop Stiles had been using to try and find anything in the Argent's Bestiary. The Alpha wolf watched as Stiles quietly shut the door behind him, slowly crossing the room to place his laptop on the desk in the corner before walking over and climbing on the bed.

Peter didn't say anything as Stiles settled next to him. He watched as the boy opened the book and began silently reading.

Neither spoke, continuing with the research that Peter was fairly certain was now all but useless, unless there was something in Bestiary but only Lydia knew Archaic Latin so that was a slow translation process and no doubt Stiles had gotten tired of sitting around, listening to Jackson's digs about Stiles' feelings for Lydia. All because Jackson knew Lydia would never return those feelings.

Silence fell over them and the only sound, outside of their breathing, was the soft turning of pages. The minutes drug on and after a while Peter found himself reaching over to drag his fingers through Stiles' hair which had grown out over the last few months. It wasn't as long as Scott's or Isaac's but more like Jackson's. Just long enough that Peter's fingers could easily slide through it. He honestly expected Stiles to freak out a little and pull away but the teen just sat there, he even, surprisingly enough, leaned his head into Peter's touch.

They stayed like that, both reading, Peter's fingers combing through Stiles' hair, for quite a while until Stiles huffed loudly, snapped his book shut and tossed it aside, watching it bounce across the mattress and to the floor.

"That book is over a hundred years old," Peter said as he rubbed his thumb over the back of Stiles' skull. "And irreplaceable."

Stiles made a low sound. "That book is freaking useless!" He glanced pointedly at the one Peter still held. "And I'm willing to bet anything that one isn't any more useful."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"

Stiles met the Alpha wolf's gaze and gave a nod. "Anything."

Peter smirked at the game they were playing. It wasn't the first time. In fact it was becoming a common occurrence between them. Betting on some random or little thing. Bonding, Derek called it. Peter just thought it was amusing to see how far he could push Stiles, especially since Stiles always seemed to lose. "Alright," he said as he rubbed his fingers along Stiles' scalp. "It's a bet."

Peter continued to read, watching Stiles from the corner of his eye. He reached the last page and slowly closed the book.

"Well?" Stiles was looking at him expectantly and as much as Peter wanted to lie, to say that he'd found something, the Alpha knew that Stiles would want to see it.

"You were right."

Stiles grinned, the triumphant grin of someone who'd finally, finally, gotten one over on someone else. Peter expected more of a response, some energetic outburst of joy but all Stiles did was grin before moving slowly from where he was sitting until he was stretched out next to Peter, head reclining against the Alpha wolf's shoulder while his arm wrapped over Peter's abdomen.

"Is this the _anything_ you mentioned?"

"Yes." Stiles closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. "For an hour, just one hour, you and me, here like this."

Peter couldn't help but smile as he continued to comb his fingers through Stiles' hair. "If you wanted to cuddle, Stiles, you didn't have to make a bet."

"Shush," Stiles poked Peter in the ribs, not enough to actually hurt, just to emphasize his point. "This bet is more about spending an hour alone than the cuddling. The cuddling is a bonus."

Peter hummed as Stiles snuggled closer. He rather liked the idea of having just an hour to do nothing. It wasn't often that they just took time to relax. Not with all the crazy that was going on lately. So he decided it was a good idea to just lay back, wrap his arm around Stiles, and enjoy the peace while it lasted. His fingers continued to lazily comb through Stiles hair as they laid together and Stiles hand, once resting on Peter's stomach, slowly slid upwards until it rested over the Alpha wolf's left shoulder.

Peter tipped his head down and brushed a soft kiss to Stiles' forehead. "It's fine, you know," he said softly as Stiles' fingers rubbed small circles into his shoulder. "It's been two days."

Stiles gave a small nod but he didn't move his hand. He still remembered having to pull an arrow out of the Alpha wolf's shoulder. An arrow that had been fired by an Argent. A very specific Argent. Stiles had been avoiding Allison ever since. He still remembered Peter howling in pain as the wolfsbane coated arrow had pierced his shoulder. He still remembered the man's blood on his hands as he'd had to pull the arrow free. The way the crimson fluid had soaked into his sweater when he'd helped Peter to his Jeep. He remembered all of that in vivid clarity and didn't think he could handle being around Allison for a while.

Pressing as close to Peter as he could he nuzzled against the Alpha wolf's shoulder, letting his eyes close so that he could enjoy what little amount of time they had.

Peter smiled as he felt Stiles relax and listened as the teen's breathing slowly evened out, heartbeat slowing with sleep. He pressed a quick kiss to Stiles' forehead and hugged the boy closer. He sat there for a while, listening to the steady sound of Stiles' breathing, his heart, and it wasn't long before his own eyes slipped shut, sleeping claiming him just as easily as it had claimed Stiles.

_oOoOoOo_

Some time later Lydia carefully opened the door and poked her head in, thinking to tell Peter to keep Stiles upstairs since Allison and her father were down stairs, talking to Scott and Derek about the Alpha Pack's movements, only to stop and stare at the sight that greeted her.

Peter and Stiles were lying together on the bed with Stiles tucked against Peter's side. Peter had an arm wrapped protectively down around Stiles, while Stiles arm was stretched upwards, hand on Peter's shoulder. Peter might have been asleep, but he was still smiling and Lydia was willing to bet that if she could see Stiles' face then he'd be smiling too.

As quietly as she could, Lydia moved out of the room, closing the door behind her before she carefully made her way down the hall to the stairs. She'd always known Stiles would find just the right person for him when everyone least expected it. She also knew that Peter and Stiles were good for each other. Peter was protective and loyal. Stiles was happy and optimistic. Together they would make an amazing couple. 

And if they needed a push in the right direction then she wouldn't have a problem with being the girl to give them that push.


	6. Flame

Stiles was being held in a tight grip, a grip he was fighting to break, his eyes fixed in a mix of horror and concern on Peter, who was in complete wolf form, surrounded not only by hunters but by a ring of fire. Even from this distant, he could feel the heat, could smell the gasoline that had been used to make the ring. He kept fighting, knowing it was useless. Knowing the man holding him was far stronger than him.

"Stop it!" Stiles cried out as one of the hunters grabbed up a branch, lit it on fire and tossed it at Peter, who jumped as far as he was able, growling and snapping but beyond that unable to do anything. "Just...Just stop! He didn't do anything!"

Footsteps approaching drew Stiles' gaze momentarily and he watched as Allison and her father drew near.

"What is this," Chris asked as he looked from Stiles to the Alpha wolf in the circle.

"We caught an Alpha, obviously," Allison said as she gripped her bow tighter.

"I meant why is Stiles here?"

Allison frowned and looked at Stiles, as though noticing him for the first time, she gave a quick motion of her hand and the guy holding him released him, but stood extremely close, ready to grab him in a heartbeat. "Stiles, what are you doing here?"

Stiles looked away from Allison, unable to continue looking at her when she was the reason he was watching Peter growl and bare his fangs, trying to find a way out. It was slowly killing him to see Peter like that. He could feel his heart ripping in half as he came to the conclusion that he was going to have to do something very drastic in order to save the Alpha wolf.

"Stiles?"

Allison's voice was cold, flat, in a way he hadn't heard before. But he didn't care. She was part of the problem. She was the reason these men had managed to capture Peter. She was the reason one of the Alphas of his pack was trapped and suffering.

"Stiles!"

Chris Argent grabbed his arm suddenly and Stiles looked up at him, surprised that he hadn't noticed the man move towards him. "Stiles," Chris said calmly, sounding like a regular father and not the hunter Stiles knew he was. "Stiles, why are you here?"

"I...I..." Stiles heard a whine over the crackling of the fire and his gaze went back to Peter. He watched as Peter curled up, whining loudly, eyes glazing over with fear and Stiles felt his heart skip several beats. Peter was no doubt flashing back to the night he'd lost his family. The night an Argent had murdered them and left him to burn.

Stiles looked at the flames, watched them lick towards the sky, towards Peter's crouching form and something in him just snapped.

Without giving it real thought, he pulled away from Chris, barely noticing the man's confused expression, and took no heed of Allison saying his name. He just drew a deep breath and bolted forward. He heard the hunters shout, heard Chris and Allison call out his name, but he ignored all of it. His focus completely on Peter. Even when a hunter tried to grab him, to stop him, months of being with werewolves had taught him to dodge, to evade, and he easily ducked out of the way, still moving steadily forward.

He heard Allison scream his name as he dove into the ring of fire, feeling the heat of it, and his skin prickled, he felt pain in his arm but ignored it as he landed in the center of the ring. He kicked the still burning branch away, ignoring it as it fell into the outer ring of flames, and he scrambled over to Peter, who was shaking like mad but didn't seem to be aware of anything going on around him.

"Peter..." Stiles whispered so the hunters wouldn't hear him, pressing against the Alpha wolf's side, trying to get through to him. "Peter...I'm here...I'm here..."

Peter gave no outward sign that he had heard Stiles.

"Peter..." Stiles wrapped his arms around the wolf's neck, fingers sinking into the scorched fur, praying he didn't inflict anymore damage. As gently as he could he pulled Peter up against him, tucking the wolf's head beneath his chin so he could continue to whisper in Peter's ear.

"I'm here," he said, tears prickling his eyes as he realized that unless he could get through to Peter they were both going to die here. "Peter...I'm here...it's gonna be okay...you're gonna be okay..."

A low rumbling whine was the only response.

"I'm here..." Stiles felt the tears roll down his cheeks even as the heat of the flames seemed too intensify. "I'm right here...I promise...I'm not gonna leave you..."

He pressed his face into Peter's fur before he whisper three little words into the wolf's ear. Three little words he meant with every fibre of his being. Eyes closing he waited for the inevitable but heard an odd sound and suddenly the heat was gone. Eyes snapping open his head lifted and he watch smoke billow around him and Peter and he heard the sound of a fire extinguisher. He blinked unable to see through the smoke, but that suddenly didn't matter because he felt Peter shifting in his arms, the wolf fading away to reveal the man.

The change in forms meant that Stiles' arms were now wrapped around Peter's naked, and soot coated, shoulders. One of Peter's hands was gripping his arm tightly and the other curled around his thigh. He didn't think Peter was fully aware of what he was doing and didn't care. At least Peter had come back enough to transform. He hugged Peter as close as he could, whispering soothing things in the Alpha wolf's ear and only stopped when he heard approaching footsteps. Looking up he found Allison looking down at him with wide eyes. Next to her was her father, who was holding a fire extinguisher. Well that certainly answered who had doused the flames.

"Stiles..." Allison shook her head as though trying to rid herself of confusion but the only thing that Stiles was capable of focusing on was that she was still holding her bow, clearly ready to spring into action to kill Peter at any moment. "Stiles what are you..."

"Haven't you hurt him enough?!" Stiles' shout carried through the otherwise empty air and he saw Chris glance away, as though the man already knew what was about to come out of Stiles' mouth.

"Stiles," Allison said his name in a hurt tone but he wasn't Scott. She couldn't play him the way she played his best friend.

"It's bad enough your psycho aunt burned his family and left him for dead! Now what?! You're trying to finish the damn job?!"

Allison couldn't have looked more hurt if he'd slapped her. "Stiles...you...you can't expect me to spare him. Not after what he's done. He's not human."

_"YOU'RE NOT HUMAN!"_

Allison jerked back a step and Stiles saw the sharp way Chris looked at him but couldn't seem to stop himself from continuing.

"You say that he's just a monster but if that's the case then it's your aunt's fault! She burned him half to death and it took six years for his body to heal. His _body_! Have you got any idea what that sort of trauma does to the mind?! The scars it leaves that don't heal and can't be seen?!"

Stiles felt Peter move, pressing closer to him, as though seeking comfort.

"If he's a monster," Stiles spat the word _monster_ like it had a foul taste that he couldn't handle. "Then it's because of your aunt! Your family! Because he was driven to it from years of being locked inside his own mind and enough is enough! I won't let you hurt him anymore!"

He saw Allison's eyes widened but he was more focused on what he heard. Not far off was the howl of a wolf. Scott to be exact. His best friend's howl was quickly joined by those of the rest of the pack. They were close. Close enough that the few hunters would be outnumbered. Drawing a deep breath he ignored Allison when she tried to say her piece, no doubt an attempt to convince him to see her side.

He ignored her, brushing his fingers through the hair at the nape of Peter's neck, counting down the minutes, knowing the pack was coming. Help was coming.

Allison had just taken a step forward when a loud, growling roar rang out through the darkness of the trees. He didn't move. Didn't flinch. Just knelt there, holding onto Peter, listening as his pack come up from the trees behind them. He saw Allison stiffen, no doubt because of Derek, whom she still blamed for her mother's death, and glanced from the corner of his eye to see Derek stepping around him and Peter, moving to stand between them and the hunters.

Fanned out around them were the rest of the pack, growling and showing their new found strength. He managed not to jerk in surprise when Erica suddenly crouched next to them, eyes glowing and claws at the ready, her gaze dropping to his slightly burned arm and a growl bubbled up from her chest. But she didn't move, just crouched there. Ready to attack should her Alpha order it.

"I think you'll be leaving now," Derek said firmly, looking at Chris and only at Chris.

"We didn't mean for Stiles to be hurt," Chris said calmly, hoping that he could convince the wolves to back down without a fight. His men were good but they were out numbered and even with their weapons six werewolves was more than he was willing to handle at any given time. Especially when his men had already injured one of the members of the pack. All on his daughter's orders. "Derek you have to understand..."

"I understand your family keeps trying to burn mine to death," Derek growled, muscles flexing with the desire to shift into the monstrous wolf form all Alphas had. But he restrained himself, knowing that right now words would work better than violence. "We had an agreement, Chris. You'd leave us alone so long as we helped you deal with the Alpha Pack."

"I didn't know it was your uncle," Chris said, glancing briefly at Peter, still held in Stiles' arms. "None of us did. We thought..."

"I don't care." Derek shook his head, hands clenching into fists. "The moment Stiles intervened you should have backed down. Instead you nearly killed them both!"

"Stiles jumped into the fire of his own accord!" Allison's shout caused Derek to look at her. "I tried to stop him! But he jumped anyways!"

"To do the noble thing. To try and save a life."

Allison's jaws snapped shut for a moment and before she could say anything else Chris spoke up. "I think we should all just go our separate ways, Derek." The elder hunter hoped Derek would agree with him. "We've all got our own to tend to."

Derek's eyes flashed red momentarily. "If any Argent ever threatens a member, any member, of my pack again, I'll finish what my uncle started with Kate. Is that clear?"

Chris gave a slow nod and ordered his people to leave. A few looked uncertain but they followed his orders, leaving only him and Allison facing the wolves. "Stiles needs medical treatment for that burn," he said as he glanced at Stiles, whose attention was completely focused on Peter.

"He'll get it," Derek said with a little less growl in his voice.

The pack waited until the Argents had walked away before they even remotely relaxed. Derek turned and rushed to kneel down in front of Stiles and Peter. "How bad is he," he asked Stiles even as Erica tried to get a better look at Stiles' arm.

"I dunno," Stiles said softly, smoothing a hand through Peter's hair. "He...He changed so I'm counting that as a positive. But...well...it would probably be better if we got him back to the house."

Derek nodded and motioned to Boyd, who easily lifted Peter into his arms, carrying the Alpha back through the forest, Stiles never leaving his side.

_oOoOoOo_

Several hours later and Stiles was curled up next to Peter on the Alpha wolf's bed, arm bandaged up and tucked safely in the space between his body and Peter's.

Peter had either passed out or just fallen asleep but either way Stiles just wanted him to wake up long enough so he could see those sky blue eyes and make certain the Alpha was okay. He had no idea what had gone through Peter's mind, trapped in that fiery ring, but he wanted to help make things okay again. Reaching up with his good arm, Stiles brushed Peter's hair back, looking at the tense lines in the Alpha's face. He brushed his thumb over one near Peter's eyes and was surprised when Peter drew a deep breath, eyes slowly flickering open.

"Genim..." Peter's voice was hoarse, like he hadn't spoken in days, but Stiles figured that could be because of the smoke and trauma the Alpha wolf had endured. Either way, hearing his given name, spoken that way, twisted something inside.

"Shh," Stiles cooed, sweeping his thumb over Peter's cheek in a soothing gesture. "It's okay. You're okay."

Peter made a low sound, his eyes flicking over Stiles' face, taking in every little detail before dropping to the teen's injured arm. "You're hurt..."

"Just a little," Stiles said, not doubting for an instant that Peter could probably smell the burn. "I just...I couldn't let them hurt you...not anymore...you...you didn't deserve that. No one does."

Peter blinked, as though thinking about what Stiles had just said, before he reached out and wrapped his arms around the teen and pulled his closer, still holding on. "Heard you...shouting...felt the flames...the heat...couldn't reach you...couldn't protect you...just like my...family..."

"Hey." Stiles tipped his head back to brush his nose against the underside of Peter's chin. "I'm right here. I. Am. Right. Here."

"Couldn't protect you..."

"Sometimes you need protecting too you know." Stiles wasn't surprised when Peter hugged him closer, causing him to tuck his head beneath the Alpha wolf's chin. "And I'd do it again. You're...You're more than just pack to me...you...you're...well you're special to me, okay?"

A low rumble echoed from Peter's chest and a soft kiss was pressed to the top of Stiles' head as Peter's hands rubbed over his back, no doubt the Alpha wolf's way of reassuring himself that Stiles really was alright. With a smile, Stiles relaxed in Peter's embrace, eyes slowly slipping shut and he was almost asleep when he heard Peter whisper in his ears. Three little words that made his heart leap and butterflies to take flight in his stomach. He heard Peter rumble again before another kiss was press to his head.

_Yeah,_ Stiles thought sleepily. _We're alright._


	7. Formal

Peter was sitting in the living room, comfortably curled up at one end of the couch, reading and enjoying the peaceful evening offered to him because of the high school's _Spring Formal Dance_ , when the front door of the house banged open. Without moving he listened and scented the air. Surprised by what his senses told him, he turned his head, listening as the door slammed shut and then footsteps approached the living room. He watched as Stiles entered, looking rather dejected, more so even than he had when he'd resigned himself to the fact that Lydia would never return his affections.

Watching as Stiles shrugged out of his suit jacket, Peter couldn't help but wonder what had forced the teen from the dance he and his fellow adolescents had been carrying on about for weeks. Apparently it was one of the biggest highlights of the school year, not including the lacrosse team once again making it to the State Championships.

As Stiles slung the jacket over the back of a chair and reached up to yank his dark tie loose, Peter marked his page and closed his book.

"Is everything alright, Stiles?"

Stiles made a low sound, barely looking at Peter, shoving a hand through his hair which he'd let grow out in the last few months. The movement, simple but deliberate, quickly undid all the hard work Lydia had put into making certain the unruly strands laid flat.

"Have you ever just...I dunno...just not understood why...and then..." He drew a deep breath, shoving his hand through his hair again. "This is ridiculous!"

Peter slowly set his book on the coffee table, watching Stiles as he paced, restlessly, back and forth in front of the fireplace. "Care to elaborate a little more?" He could smell the tension and anger rolling off Stiles in waves.

"Susie."

"Ah, I see." Peter knew very well how Lydia had convinced her friend Susie to go to the formal with Stiles just so he wouldn't have to go alone. He hadn't thought it a good idea when Lydia had announced it a week ago, had even said as much, but Stiles had been so happy to have a pretty girl to go with that he hadn't thought through just how badly the evening could end. "I take it she didn't stay with you as long as Lydia had intended."

Stiles snorted. "That's an understatement if ever there was one!" He shook his head. "I don't know about you but I don't count driving into the school parking lot and getting out of the car as _going to the formal_."

"Now even I didn't think she'd sink so low as to just take off after getting to the parking lot."

Another snort. "That isn't the best bit," Stiles said as he once more shoved a hand through his hair. "Oh, no, not only did she leave me in the parking lot, she went into the formal with her ex-freaking-boyfriend!"

Peter watched as Stiles shoved both hands through his hair, yanking on it slightly, and swiftly rose to his feet, striding across the living room to gently wrapping his hands around Stiles' wrists and pulling the teen's hands down.

"It's her loss, Stiles," he said calmly, thumbs rubbing small circles against the smooth skin of the teen's inner wrists. "Anyone would be lucky to have you as a date. Hell, they'd be lucky to have you in any sense."

"You're just saying that," Stiles said as he shook his head, the anger in his eyes was now tinged with sadness.

Peter released one of Stiles' wrists in order to reach up and tip Stiles' chin up, making the teen meet his gaze. "You can't hear my heartbeat," he said softly, feeling as much as seeing Stiles shiver. "But I meant what I said."

The Alpha wolf watched as a small bit of hope glimmered in Stiles' eyes and he couldn't keep from smiling as the hand that had been tipping the boy's chip up slid up until it was cupping his cheek. 

"Who cares about some silly dance that no one will remember in a few months, anyways," he said softly, releasing the wrist he still held to reach over Stiles' shoulder to turn on the little iPod stereo sitting on the mantle. Soft music filled the air and he saw the curiosity spark in Stiles' eyes. "We can have our own dance right here. With no one staring or judging. Something we can look back on with real fondness."

A smile, a small one, graced Stiles face as Peter pulled him a little closer and started to sway with him. It wasn't a fancy or complicated dance. Just them swaying gently in time with the music. After the first minute of the song Stiles stepped a little closer, letting his head rest on Peter's shoulder even as his arms wrapped around the Alpha wolf's torso, hands resting against the backs of Peter's shoulders. Peter, in return, wrapped an arm around Stiles' waist, hand curling almost possessively around Stiles' hip, while his other hand came up to cradle the back of the teen's head, fingers toying with Stiles' hair.

As they danced Peter let his cheek rest against the side of Stiles' head, breathing in the mixed scents of shampoo, hair gel and Stiles. He smiled into the teen's hair, nuzzling gently, oddly thrilled when Stiles' arms tightened around him and the boy rubbed his cheek along his shoulder. He listened to the steady rhythm of Stiles' heart and a low rumble echoed from his own chest.

Even after the song ended, changing to something more upbeat, they just kept on swaying, holding onto one another without a thought or care about the events of the evening that had led them to this moments. Soon though, Stiles lifted his head just a little, enough to whisper in Peter's ear. "Thank you."

Peter's smile widened and without thinking or hesitating he pressed a soft, quick kiss to Stiles' temple. "Always."


	8. Companion

Stiles hummed softly as he stretched out on the bed, legs spread in order to accommodate Peter's body. The Alpha wolf was laying over him. His head pillowed on Stiles' chest, one hand holding Stiles', their fingers laced together, while the other was rubbing circles over the teen's hip. Neither spoke. They hadn't for nearly an hour and they were both okay with that.

Peter made a low sound as he turned his head slightly, inhaling deeply, taking in Stiles' unique scent. He smiled when Stiles' fingers began gently combing through his hair. A rumble filled the air as he relaxed fully, letting Stiles' gentle petting lull him into a comfortable daze. He rubbed his cheek against the soft cotton of the teen's shirt, not surprised when Stiles chuckled softly, fingers rubbing small circles into the Alpha wolf's scalp.

Stiles couldn't help but smile when the hand Peter had resting against his hip began toying with the bottom of his t-shirt, fingers teasingly slipping beneath the fabric. When those fingers began to rub, to press lightly, Stiles chuckled softly. "Thought we were going to take a nap," he said softly as he started combing his fingers through Peter's hair once again.

Peter nuzzled Stiles' chest. "We are."

"Doesn't feel that way," Stiles murmured as he looked down at Peter, who looked up at him at the same time. Peter smiled slightly.

"What does it feel like?"

Stiles hummed lightly, twirling a few strands of Peter's hair around his fingers. "Feels more like what we did last night."

Peter chuckled, suddenly pushing himself up so he was balanced on one forearm, never letting go of Stiles' hand, as he leaned up and over Stiles. "Does it now?" He leaned down and nuzzled Stiles' neck. "How about that?" Stiles murmured in a positive manner. Peter kissed the corner of the teen's jaw. "And that?" Another affirmative sound. Peter smiled as he kissed along Stiles' jaw, slow, soft kisses that were barely there and made Stiles whimper, turning his head and seeking Peter's lips with his own.

With a low growling sound Peter seized Stiles' lips in a fierce, dominating kiss.

Stiles whimpered into the kiss, his fingers tightening in Peter's hair, trying to draw the Alpha wolf closer even as his back arched, his body pressing as close as possible to the older man. He felt the rumble that tore through Peter's chest and it made him whimper all over again. He let go of Peter's hand and reached around to shove his hand beneath the back of the man's shirt, fingers skating lightly over smooth skin and powerful muscles. Another rumble from Peter had Stiles squirming beneath the Alpha wolf. His other hand now free, Peter reached up and tugged Stiles' shirt collar aside, revealing a dark bruise in the slope where the teen's neck met his shoulder.

Breaking the kiss, which left Stiles panting heavily, Peter's head dropped down, mouthing at the mark on Stiles' neck, making the teen mewl and squirm. As the Alpha wolf nibbled, licked and sucked at the bruise, making it darker, Stiles' fingers dug into Peter's shoulder and hair, urging him on, wanting the mark that would show the pack, show anyone, that he was claimed by an Alpha. Claimed by Peter.

Stiles knew this wasn't just a sexual situation, he knew Peter wasn't doing this just because he was a possessive guy. This was a wolf thing, something Stiles had read about after the first time Jackson had commented on the so called hickey on Stiles' neck. The little passage that he'd found in an old book of Peter's said _A wolf who chooses a mate that is not wolf will mark said chosen mate by biting the neck or shoulder, leaving behind a mark in the skin. This mark, often not permanent, is an outward sign of the mating. It will continue to smell of the wolf long after it has been left. Should the mark be made permanent it will forever radiate the scent of the wolf._

Stiles knew the mark wasn't permanent, because the minute it began to fade Peter worked on putting it back, but part of him wondered if the Alpha wolf might have make it permanent. If he did it obviously couldn't be with his fangs, which would be an Alpha bite, which could potentially kill him. No, if Peter permanently marked him as a mate it would be much like what he was doing now. He squirmed, back arching, as Peter's teeth dug into his skin enough for him to feel a bite of pain mixing with the pleasure.

Peter swiped his tongue over the mark before lifting his head, looking down at Stiles with eyes that glowed red. "Mine," the Alpha rumbled as he rubbed his fingers over the now tender mark on Stiles' neck.

Stiles whimpered, head tipping back instinctively. "Yes," he murmured, fingers rubbing through Peter's hair. "Yours."

Peter rumbled again, this time contentedly before he pushed himself up onto his knees, reaching for the hem of Stiles' t-shirt, which made Stiles chuckle. "What happened to taking a nap, huh?" The teen, having had to relinquish his hold on the Alpha wolf, let his arms fall above his head as Peter tugged his shirt up, letting the fabric tangle around his wrists.

"Hmm," Peter leaned down, nuzzling at Stiles' chest, making the teen gasp and arch his back. "I think the nap can wait. At least until we finish what we started."

Stiles whined in agreement, arching upwards again, attempting to get his shirt the hell off his arms so he could touch Peter in return, possibly get the Alpha wolf's shirt off too. Peter chuckled, grabbing the shirt still ensnaring his wrist and pinned them to the pillows. "You stay right there," he rumbled, smirking down at Stiles. "I'm going to take my time with you."

Stiles shivered slightly in anticipation. He shimmied a bit, trying to look as enticing as possible. "Well what are you waiting for, big guy? Come and get me."

Peter chuckled and leaned down, licking at Stiles' chest, tongue flicking teasingly over a nipple, making Stiles gasp and writhe beneath him. Yes, this was so much better than a nap.


	9. Move

Stiles grunted as he hit the ground.

Again.

He looked up and watched as Peter shook his head. "You need to move quicker than that," the Alpha wolf said as Stiles picked himself up. "If that had been an actual fight and I was a member of the Alpha Pack you'd be dead."

Stiles drew a slow, deep breath, reminding himself not to yell when he spoke. "You want me to be faster than a werewolf. Are you freaking nuts?"

Peter sighed. "You are capable of predicting an attack. I've seen it whenever Jackson tries to jump you at the house."

"That's different!" Stiles threw his arms up into the air in frustration. "I've known Jackson for years!"

"And you've known Derek for little over twelve months and you can predict when he's about to slam your head into something."

Stiles made a low sound, scrubbing his hands over his head and face, silently repeating the mantra that Peter was trying to help but had crappy people skills. Drawing a breath and trying to keep his frustration and anger in check, he slowly lowered his hands and looked at Peter again. Only to find the Alpha wolf was gone.

Swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat, Stiles quickly looked around, his gaze darting about the clearing, hoping to see some sign of Peter. But the Alpha wolf had disappeared without a trace. "Great," he muttered, kicking at a pile of leaves. "Just great."

He ran his hands through his hair and took a small step to the left when a loud crunching snap had him freezing. Looking around he hoped to catch sight of Peter before the Alpha wolf pounced again and knocked him into the dirt. At least then he might have a better chance at initially dodging the man. Silence fell over the forest again and Stiles felt his heart begin to pound against his ribs, which meant that Peter could most definitely hear it. He was thankful that this wasn't a training session on hiding otherwise he'd be screwed.

Another crunching snap, most certainly a branch being stepped on or pushed out of the way, had Stiles' fight or flight instinct kicking in and he was getting seriously close to giving into flight. "Peter?" He glanced around again, searching the trees for the Alpha wolf again, checking for the dark clothing the man was wearing. Of course he had no guarantee that Peter was going to come at him in human form. The man could very easily have decided to change up the game by taking on his wolf or Alpha form.

When another branch snapped, this one much closer, Stiles decided he wasn't sticking around to find out what Peter was up to.

Bolting like a rabbit, he just randomly picked a direction. Last time he'd decided heading for his Jeep was a brilliant idea. He hadn't made it ten steps. This time he was going to zig and zag, just like in those nature shows he'd watched as a kid. He had no idea if it would work or not, given that the animal chasing him technically thought like a human but he had to do something other than run in a straight line. He also had to figure out a way to make it harder to track him by scent.

A sudden idea came to him then and he began zigging and zagging in the direction of the creek, remembering his dad saying once it was hard for the scent dogs to track if someone had gone through enough water.

He made it about halfway there, his head turning every now and again so he could check the area behind him, to see if he was being followed, before it happened.

Something big slammed into him from the side, causing him to cry out in a mix of surprise and pain as he went crashing to the ground. His cheek scrapped along a rock and he winced in pain. He felt the skin split, blood trickling down his cheek and a fresh wave of anger shot through him. "What the hell, Peter?!"

He looked up, ready to lay into the man for being so rough, only to go completely still and silent when he realized the man standing over him wasn't Peter.

Stiles felt fear crawl like ice into his veins as he saw the stranger's claws and the golden eyes. _Beta,_ his mind supplied even as he tried to think of something, someway, of getting out of this alive. Or at least in one piece. He opened his mouth, about to speak, when the Beta growled, the sound dangerous and making Stiles' skin crawl.

"You smell like pack...like a wolf," the Beta growled, his fangs flashing in the afternoon sunlight. "But you ain't...you ain't no wolf."

Stiles shook his head. "No...No...I'm not..." He tried to subtly push himself across the ground, instinct screaming that he had to get away, only to freeze again when the Beta snarled.

"Then why?!" The Beta took a threatening step towards him. "Why do you smell like a wolf?!"

Without giving it any thought he swung his leg, catching the Beta in the knee and taking him down, before scrambling upwards and running for the creek, hoping against hope that Peter found him soon. He made it to the waters edge before he was tackled from behind, being drug to the ground by the Beta, who snarled and spat, saliva dripping onto the back of Stiles' neck. Stiles started to thrash, to try and break free, only to still when he felt razor sharp claws against the back of his neck.

"Answer me you little shit," the Beta growled, the sound reverberating through Stiles. "Why do you smell like pack?! Why do you smell like a wolf?!"

Before Stiles had a chance to answer, before he could even try to think of an answer, a savage, inhuman growl filled the air. The kind that Stiles hadn't heard in well over a year, the kind that, for nearly a month, he'd had nightmares about.

The Beta's head lifted away and before Stiles could blink that savage growl sounded again, only this time it was accompanied by what sounded like running and then the Beta let out a loud yelp before he was pulled away from Stiles.

Stiles heard snarling, the sound of the Beta whining, and quickly rolled over, watching as the Beta was tossed to the ground. He looked up at the massive creature now standing between him and the Beta, relief flooding through him. Peter, in full Alpha form, growled deeply, the sound rumbling up through his chest, eyes glowing a deep shade of crimson. "Peter," Stiles' voice was soft, barely a whisper, but the Alpha wolf turned and crouched down next to him, clawed hands carefully running over his body even as a low rumble filled the air.

"I didn't know..." the Beta whined, clearly too afraid or stupid to try and run, he just laid where Peter had thrown him, eyes wide and face pale. "I didn't know he belonged to you...I swear...I just...I didn't know!"

Peter growled, fangs bared and looked at the Beta, who cringed and looked down submissively. The Alpha wolf's gaze returned to Stiles, looking over the teen for sign of injury, and when he looked at Stiles' cheek he growled again, deeper this time, with a meaning behind it that had the Beta whining and trying to push himself away. It was then that Stiles noticed the Beta's leg was bent at an impossible angle.

When Peter slowly rose, towering over the Beta, the look of fear in the other werewolf's eyes was like a living, breathing organism. Stiles watched as Peter advanced, each step full of purpose, and when the Alpha wolf reached the Beta he quickly looked away, not wanting to see what was about to happen. Under different circumstances he would have tried to convince Peter to spare the Beta's life. But he knew if Peter hadn't shown up the Beta, whoever he was, would most likely have killed him so he looked away and kept silent.

He heard the Beta beg, pleading for his life, and then there was a gurgling sound, the smell of blood heavy in the air. Stiles managed to repress the gag reflex, reminding himself that he'd seen far worse than what had just happened here, but still he didn't look. He kept his gaze averted until Peter was kneeling next to him, human again, save for his eyes still glowing red.

"I'm sorry," the Alpha wolf said as he carefully cupped Stiles' uninjured cheek. "I should have scented him sooner."

Stiles shook his head, wincing at the sting in his cheek. "I'm okay," he said as he reached up, covering Peter's hand with his own. "Little banged up but I'm okay."

"Stiles..."

"Hey," Stiles sat up, giving a weak smile. "I'm fine. Throw big bad scary stuff at me and I just keep on going."

"You shouldn't joke about this," Peter replied as he pulled Stiles closer, holding the boy securely against his chest.

Stiles let his head rest against Peter's shoulder. "But I'm fine...and if I don't joke about this stuff...Peter...it'll drive me crazy..."

Peter nuzzled the top of Stiles' head, trying to forget the fact that he had come close to losing Stiles. He knew he couldn't handle that. He had survived the fire that took his family and death itself, but he wouldn't survive losing his one connection to the world. He wouldn't survive losing Stiles.

"At least I managed to move at little bit this time."

Peter couldn't help but chuckle at Stiles' words. "Yes, you did," he said as he shook his head. He might never understand how Stiles' brain worked, but it hardly mattered, not when Stiles was safe and in his arms.


	10. Silver

_According to legend the werewolf can be harmed or killed with silver._

Stiles couldn't help but snort as he read that.

He wasn't a wolf but spending so much time with a pack of werewolves had taught him that not all the legends were true. Wolfsbane was a definite thing. But calling their Christian name or cutting them with silver was a load of crap. He'd learned both of those things from Peter after he'd asked a dozen questions or more after he'd got reading one afternoon and found himself curious about the real truth behind some of the myths. The interesting thing he'd learned about silver was that the legend had been started by a hunter whose wife was an Alpha werewolf.

Peter hadn't known all the details, given how old that particular myth was, but he'd told Stiles that he suspected that it had stemmed from the hunter trying to protect his wife. Stiles could honestly understand trying to protect the person you love.

He looked up and across the living room, looking right at Peter who was talking to Derek, Boyd and Scott. He didn't know why he did. He hadn't intended to but there he was, sitting there and staring at Peter. He found he did it a lot more lately, finding his gaze always landing on the Alpha wolf whenever he was just looking around. It was like his eyes were made of metal and Peter was a magnet.

Stiles jerked slightly when someone flicked his ear. He quickly turned ready to lay into whoever had flicked him only to have the words turn to ash in his mouth when he found Lydia sitting next to him. "Umm..." He frowned as he rubbed his ear. "What...was that for?"

"Can you be anymore obvious?"

Stiles blinked in confusion. "What are you..."

"Don't try that with me, Stiles." Lydia leaned back, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "The boys may be blind but I see the way you look at him."

"Him?"

Lydia hummed softly, glancing passed Stiles who quickly looked over his shoulder, finding the others watching them. Lydia quickly took his hand. "Let's go for a walk," she said, tugging him to his feet and then from the room without waiting for a response. They walked for a few minutes, far enough from the house so they wouldn't be overheard, her hand fitted snugly with his, their fingers laced in a way that only good friends were capable of.

"So," Lydia said as they finally came to a stop, looking at Stiles' with one of those curious but understanding expressions on her pretty face. "Does Peter know you like him?"

Stiles drew a shallow breath. "I...I think...I mean I...I don't know...I..."

"Stiles, it's okay." Lydia gave his hand a squeeze and he relaxed somewhat.

"Do you think he knows?"

Lydia smiled. "You see so much but when it comes to Peter it's like you can't see anything." She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. "He watches you just like you watch him."

Well that was certain news to Stiles.

"So...umm...what do I...I mean...umm..."

"You boys are all so clueless when it comes to this stuff."

"Hey!" Stiles tried to give her a stern look but knew he had failed when she merely smiled at him.

"Stiles," she said as she let go of his hand, lifting hers to cup his cheek. "You should just tell him."

His eyes went comically wide and Lydia shook her head while chuckling. "Okay, don't tell him," she said as Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. "Start small. Get him a gift."

"A gift?"

Lydia nodded. "Something nice. Something Peter will like."

"And you think I know what he likes?"

Lydia made a soft sound. "Okay," she said with a soft smile. "You and I are going to the mall, we're going to pick out something nice and then, when we get back, you're going to ask Peter to talk privately and you're going to give the gift to him."

"Lydia..."

She fixed him with one of her stern _You're doing what I'm telling you_ looks and so he quickly shut up and just nodded, letting her drag him back to the house long enough to tell the others they were going out for a bit before dragging him to his Jeep.

_oOoOoOo_

Three hours later and Stiles had a small black box tucked into his hoodie pocket as he walked back into the Hale House. Lydia strolled ahead of him, her heels clicking even as her shopping bags swayed from her hands, a bright and happy smile on her face. Stiles was nervous as hell and kept debating how quickly he could get away before Lydia realized he was gone and ended up dragging him back. Deciding it was probably better not to risk Lydia's wrath, he followed her into the living room, glancing around for Peter. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Lydia unexpectedly touched his arm, causing him to quickly look at her.

Lydia smiled as she leaned up to whisper in his ear "Kitchen."

She stepped back, the expression on her face clearly telling him to get his butt in the kitchen.

Nodding quickly he turned and headed for the kitchen. By the time he stepped through the swinging door his heart was racing and his palms were sweaty. Peter was standing at the counter, preparing what looked like some sort of pasta dish and when he looked at the Alpha wolf he swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat, trying to figure out a way to approach the man without seeming like a complete and utter idiot.

"Is something wrong, Stiles?"

Stiles jerked slightly, momentarily surprised, before remembering that Peter could hear his heartbeat. "No...umm...I...well...umm..." Stiles cleared his throat, fishing the little box from his pocket. "I got this...for...well...for you..."

Stiles held the box out, his heart pounding so hard against his ribs he thought it was trying to break free.

Peter turned, wiping his hands on a dish towel before stepping forward and taking the box. Stiles watched, nervously, as Peter slowly opened the gift. He couldn't read the Alpha wolf's face. Couldn't tell what the man was thinking and that only made him more nervous. His feet shuffled slightly, fingers twitching against his jeans, as he watched Peter pick the item out of the box, holding it up so the light glinted off it.

A simple, plain silver ring.

Peter looked at the ring for a moment before his gaze lifted to meet Stiles'. "Stiles..."

"I saw it when Lydia drug me into a jewellery store," Stiles said quickly, thankful that he wasn't lying. "I thought you might like it."

Peter smiled, setting the box on the counter before he slowly slid the ring onto the thumb of his left hand. Surprised that it fit so well. He studied the ring for a moment before lifting his hand and cupping Stiles' cheek. "It's wonderful," the Alpha wolf said as he watched a slight flush crawl over the teen's cheeks. "Thank you, Stiles."

Stiles gave a small smile and a nod before excusing himself, heading for the living room to catch up with Lydia.

Peter watched him go before looking at the ring again. His smile widened.

"He doesn't know the symbolism of giving silver to a werewolf does he?"

Peter glanced to the right at the sound of Derek's voice, his nephew standing by the kitchen door leading to the dining room. He touched the ring lightly as he shook his head. "No, he doesn't," the elder Alpha said as he looked to the door leading to the living room. To Stiles. "But right now that doesn't matter."

He returned to fixing the pasta he'd been preparing and he remembered an old tradition, one rarely used among werewolves now, where giving a werewolf a gift of silver was a declaration of courtship, of a wish to be mates. He knew Stiles didn't know that, had probably picked silver because of the old legend he'd explained to the teen a few days before.

Touching the ring again he found himself thinking of how a matching ring on Stiles' hand would look.


	11. Shirt

Peter climbed through the window of Stiles' bedroom without a sound. A quick glance revealed the teen wasn't there. Listening intently he determined Stiles to be down in the kitchen, talking to his father. Tipping his head to one side as his listened, he heard the sheriff tell Stiles that he had taken the midnight shift and wouldn't be back until morning and to remember to eat something and to get some sleep.

With a soft huff of laughter, Peter stopped listening and walked across the room to lie on the bed, lounging back against the pillows while he waited for Stiles to join him. He picked up an abandoned book, something that looked like it belonged in an antique book collection, and carefully opening it. He smirked when he realized it was a rather old book on werewolves. Most of the information would be highly inaccurate but Peter found it amusing that Stiles was still trying to figure things out on his own instead of just asking him or one of the younger pack members.

Flipping to the spot where Stiles had left a bookmark. Reading through one page he couldn't stop himself from snorting. Inaccurate information indeed. And yet he kept reading. Footsteps in the hallway caused him to glance up momentarily, watching as the door opened, Stiles looking down at his phone, at a text from Scott no doubt. A smirk spread across Peter's face.

"You realize this book is complete and utter bullshit, yes?"

Stiles jumped, nearly dropping his phone, his back hitting the door, heart racing. His eyes fixed on Peter and for a moment there was confusion, disbelief and then mild anger. "What is with you?!" Stiles glared, or rather tried to, it didn't quite have the effect the teen had hopped for. "There is a front door you know!"

"Having to explain to your father why a man in his thirties is visiting his teenage son would be a bit complicated don't you think?"

Stiles opened his mouth, about to argue no doubt, only to clearly realize that Peter was right because his jaw snapped shut and he gave a small nod before crossing the room to his desk, dropping into the chair, phone tossed onto a stack of papers. "So what has you sneaking in through my window this time," he asked as he leaned back in the chair, swivelling slightly.

Peter hummed, turning a page and looking over at the teen, about to say he'd just wanted some company while he waited for Derek and Scott to get back from their little scouting trip, only to have the words die in his throat when his gaze focused on the shirt Stiles wore beneath his oversized hoodie. He drew a deep breath, not so subtly scenting the air, and catching his own scent, coming most certainly from the shirt Stiles was wearing.

"You're wearing my shirt."

Stiles opened his mouth and then closed it, looking down as he did so. He tugged slightly at the hem of the shirt. "I...well it was here...and clean and...I...umm..."

Peter set the book he was holding aside as he stood, crossing the room to stand in front of Stiles, who looked like a frightened rabbit ready to bolt. Reaching down he gripped the hoodie and used it to pull Stiles to his feet, pushing the oversized garment off the teen's shoulders, letting it slide down his arms before it dropped with a soft thud to the floor. Peter smiled slightly, letting his hands rest on Stiles' shoulders, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt beneath the palms, feeling the muscles twitch and jump.

"It looks good on you," Peter said as he rubbed his thumb over the skin above the neck of the shirt, making Stiles shiver. "A bit big perhaps but good."

Stiles made a soft sound. "You really think so?"

The question was asked almost sheepishly and Peter saw the blush crawling up the teen's neck. He smiled a bit more, sliding his hand up Stiles' neck until he was cupping the teen's cheek. "I do," he said as he smiled again. "Though I'd suggest washing it before wearing it around any of the pack.

Stiles, still a bit dazed from the entire situation, blinked in confusion. "What? Why?" He looked down, tugging the hem of the shirt slightly. "Is there something wrong with it?"

Peter hummed in a considering way.

"It still smells like me."

Stiles' face went red, right up to the tips of his ears, and Peter could smell the teen's embarrassment. "It...It...umm..." Stiles was unable to find the right words, his disbelief clouding his mind.

"It's alright, Stiles."

"No it's not!" Stiles quickly shook his head. "I went to school wearing it! Have you forgotten that nearly all my friends are freaking werewolves?!"

Stiles suddenly stopped speaking. His eyes going wide as he suddenly realized something.

"Oh shit," he whispered, face going a bit paler than normal. "That's why Scott kept sniffing me...why Jackson gave me that damn smirk! Argh!"

Stiles pulled away, stepping around Peter in order to throw himself down on the bed, face buried in a pillow. He let out a sharp, muffled shout of disbelief. He laid there even when he felt the mattress dip with Peter's added weight. A hand rubbed between his shoulders unexpectedly, making him jerk in surprise before he settled down again. He murmured incoherently as Peter's hand rubbed small circles over his back. He turned his head to the side, letting his cheek rest against the pillow when Peter unexpectedly leaned over him, nuzzling at his neck.

"Peter..."

Stiles made a soft sound as he completely relaxed. It took a minute before he remembered that what Peter was doing wasn't just nuzzling. The Alpha wolf was scent marking him. Again.

"Having the shirt smell like you isn't enough?" Stiles muttered as Peter's hands drifted to his sides, running up and down teasingly. "This is just going to confirm to them that we're...uh...that we're together."

Peter chuckled softly, nipping lightly at a mark that was usually hidden by Stiles' shirt. "I'm sure they'd figure it out one way or another," he whispered back, nuzzling the spot just behind Stiles' ear, kissing the same spot kissing. He slid his hands beneath Stiles' shirt, fingers splayed over pale skin and Stiles pushed into them, making a soft sound in the back of his throat.

A low rumble tore from Peter's chest as he pressed closer to Stiles. He nipped at the mark he'd left days earlier on Stiles' neck, making the teen squirm even more.

"You should wear my shirt more often," Peter said, lifting his head enough to press a quick kiss to Stiles' cheek. He smirked when Stiles mumbled something about him being an idiot wolf but the words became a high pitched whine when Peter nuzzled his neck again. 

The afternoon was certainly shaping up much differently than either of them had expected but neither were complaining.


	12. Child

The loud pounding at the door caused Stiles to jerk awake, somehow managing not to fall off the couch or jostle the sleeping toddle off his chest. When the pounding continued he groaned faintly, carefully sitting up, sliding the still sleeping toddler from him to the couch, making certain to place a pillow beneath her head before he hurried from the living room and to the front door. Yanking the door open he was ready to lay into whoever could have potentially woken the little girl who he'd spent the better part of three hours trying to get said little girl to take a nap. But when he saw the entire pack standing on his porch.

"What the..."

"Did you forget we agreed tonight was movie night here?" Erica flipped her hair back as she spoke and Stiles could have kicked himself for forgetting about that. They'd agreed to meet at his place tonight because his father was pulling the night shift. Of course he'd completely forgotten about that when he'd agreed to babysit. So now here he was, with a bunch of werewolves and a toddler all in one house. Wonderful.

"He totally forgot," Jackson said as they all barged into the house, Scott giving him a sympathetic look as he passed, and Stiles silently counted to ten, twice, so that by the time Peter stepped by him he didn't completely feel like punching one of them in the face.

Closing the door he turned and hurried after them. When Isaac was a tad too loud for his likings he managed to get around the group and stop in the doorway of the living room. "Alright," he said firmly, yet softly, so that he didn't wake up the toddler on the couch. "Firstly, keep your voices down."

"What?" Scott looked confused. "Why?"

Stiles opened his mouth, ready to explain, when a sleepy voice sounded from behind him.

"Unca Stiles?"

Stiles turned around, no longer thinking about the wolves and their noise, and instead focusing on the four-year-old girl standing by the coffee table, rubbing one eye and looking up at him. "Hey, Speedy," he said as he quickly walked over, reaching down to scoop her up into his arms. "Did you have a nice nap?"

She nodded and peered over his shoulder. "Who them?"

"They are my friends," Stiles said with a smile, turning so it was easier for her to see the others. "They're here to watch movies. Guys this is Emma."

"Hi." She waved shyly at the pack before clinging tightly to Stiles.

"You have a kid?" Isaac's eyes were wide and he grunted when Scott elbowed him on one side while Boyd cuffed his shoulder with a little more force than needed.

"No, doofus," Stiles snapped, ignoring the twin looks of intrigue on Derek and Boyd's faces, the adoring ones on Erica and Lydia's, and the unreadable look on Peter's. "She's my cousin. I'm watching her for the weekend."

"So...what...no horror movies?" Isaac yelped when Scott and Boyd hit him again.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "We can watch a family movie first and by the time it's done it'll be time for Speedy's bath and then bed."

"No bed!" Emma shook her head, her curls bouncing wildly. "No!"

"No, not yet, Speedy," he agreed as Lydia told Jackson get the DVD ready while Erica asked Boyd to help her put the snacks on the table. "Movie, bath then bed. Sound like a deal?"

Emma gave a nod and giggled when Stiles tickled her while carrying her over and sitting in his usual spot on the couch. She settled against him, watching as the others spread out, moving to the spots previously claimed as their own. Stiles was a bit surprised when Peter settled next to him, even more surprised when Emma, normally shy around new people, inched a little closer to the Alpha wolf.

"Hi," she said softly, looking up at Peter with big brown eyes. Stiles didn't say anything just watched. "I'm Emma."

Peter smiled softly at her. "Well hello, Emma, it's very nice to meet you. My name is Peter."

Emma smiled a bit more but didn't say anything more, just leaned back against Stiles and looked at the television as the movie began.

Stiles' attention was torn between the movie, which he'd already seen a dozen times, and Emma, who kept shifting and wiggling on his lap. About halfway through the movie she shifted so she was lying down. Her head in Peter's lap. Stiles blinked in surprise having a hard time processing what had just happened. She never did anything like that. He glanced up at Peter's face, surprised even more by the contented look he saw there. After a few minutes he decided to just let it go, to chalk it up to good luck and relaxed once again.

By the end of the movie, Emma was already half asleep and while Stiles really didn't want to disturb her he knew he really didn't have a choice. Sighing softly he touched Emma's shoulder, giving her a little shake. "Come on, sleepy Speedy," he said as Lydia got up to change the DVD. "Bath time."

Emma murmured sleepy. "Nuh huh," she said, blinking up at Stiles. "Stay right here."

"No can do, Speedy." Stiles shook his head, sliding his arms around and around Emma, ignoring the fact that his hand came seriously close to Peter's groin. "Bath then bed, remember?"

The sleepy toddler shook her head. "No bed."

"Bath first, remember?" Stiles stood, holding Emma to his chest. "You can play with the rubber duckies and the boats."

That seemed to work because Emma gave a small nod and Stiles quickly made his escape, ignoring Erica's quiet comment to Derek about how he would one day make an amazing father.

_oOoOoOo_

Bath time turned out to be a bit more of a hassle than Stiles had anticipating. It was like the minute she hit the water Emma's sleepy state evaporated and she was a squealing, laughing, bouncing ball of energy. Stiles somehow managed just as soaked as Emma by the time he lifted her from the tub, dried her off and got her into her pyjamas. Turning to hang the towel over the towel bar he heard Emma giggle and then the sound of running feet as she took off out of the bathroom.

"Speedy!"

Whirling around, he chased after her, watching her dart down the hall to the stairs. He followed after her, the whole time scared that she'd stumble and fall, but when she heard her laughing as she reached the floor below he drew a breath of relief, rushing down the stairs. "Speedy! Little girl you get back here!"

He followed her into the living room, thankful that someone had turned off the television, preventing the toddler from seeing whatever movie they had been watching, and his gaze quickly searched for Emma. He came to a stop when he spotted her, up on the couch, pressed against Peter's side and peeking around the Alpha wolf, watching Stiles intently. Drawing a deep breath he ignored Jackson's pointed look at his t-shirt, the front soaked, and focused on his little cousin.

"Speedy, it's bed time."

Emma shook her head, clinging to Peter's arm.

"Speedy." Stiles took a step forward. "I'm not fighting with you on this. It's bed time."

"No, Unca Stiles!" Emma shook her head again, looking up at Peter suddenly. "Tell him, Unca Peter, tell him it's not bed time."

Everything in the room came to a sudden stop.

Stiles blinked in shock, looking from Emma to Peter, who was looking at the toddler with an affectionate smile. Stiles took a step forward, ignoring the wolves who were watching the scene play out before them. "Uncle Peter," he asked as he tried to figure out Emma's thinking pattern.

Emma gave a quick nod. "Duh," she said in a way that reminded Stiles far too much of himself. "You and Unca Peter are married like mommy and daddy."

Stiles shot Scott and Isaac a quick glare when the two snorted with laughter, Derek growled faintly, causing both to fall silent.

"Speedy," Stiles said calmly, despite the fact that his heart was racing like crazy, his embarrassment increased because he knew all the wolves in the room could hear his heart and smell his discomfort. "Speedy, Peter and I..."

"Aren't married yet," Peter spoke up, gently lifting Emma into his arms, standing as he did so. Emma looked up at him.

"Did you ask?" The little girl tipped her head to one side. "Mommy says you have to ask for stuff."

Peter's smile widened. "I have asked, sweetheart," he said as he looked at Stiles, who looked ready to beat him with something. "He just hasn't said yes yet."

Emma looked at Stiles. "Unca Stiles you supposed to say yes when Unca Peter asks. Don't you know that?"

Stiles opened his mouth, honestly having no idea what to say to that, but thankfully Peter saved him from trying to figure it out. "Don't worry, sweetheart, he'll say yes eventually. But for now I believe it's time for you to be tucked into bed."

Emma's eyes widened and she huffed angrily but didn't argue with him. Peter nodded towards Stiles who led him from the living room and up to the guest room. Once Emma was tucked into bed, her favourite teddy bear right along side her, Stiles sat on one side of the bed, a book in hand, while Peter sat on the other side, all at Emma's insistence.

Stiles read the book, making all the funny faces and voices, Emma giggling and grinned until about halfway through when her eyes closed and her breathing began to even out. Stiles finished reading anyways, just in case she happened to wake up, and once he was finished he closed the book, setting it on the nightstand and stood, Peter following his lead.

On the way out of the room Stiles grabbed the baby monitor in case Emma woke later, and made certain to turn out the light. When they returned to the living room, everyone turned to look at them. Stiles bristled instantly. "What?" He demanded as he went to the couch, setting the monitor on the end table.

"You two will make amazing fathers," Lydia said from where she was sitting, cuddled up with Jackson. "You just need to get your act together and finally stop dancing around each other."

Stiles sputtered at her comment, trying to figure out the best response, only to let out a squeak of surprise when Peter sat next to him, arm wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him close. Looking up at the Alpha wolf he found Peter was smirking that same smirk he'd worn that night in the parking garage when he'd offered the bite. Sighing, Stiles relaxed against Peter's side, knowing he wasn't likely to win any arguments.


	13. Confrontation

Stiles knew something was up when his father came home early from work and told him they needed to talk. Something that they hadn't done in a very long time.

So sitting at the kitchen table, across from one another, Stiles felt himself growing ever more nervous the longer they didn't say anything. After a few minutes more Stiles was about to say something, anything, to try and lighten the mood, only to be saved the trouble when his father finally spoke.

"Stiles...I...well I'm not sure how to really ask this but...well I suppose just to ask." The Sheriff cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "Stiles, are you...are you seeing someone? Someone...older? An...An older guy?"

Stiles brain short circuited.

"Umm..." He tried to think of something, anything, that would at least sound intelligent but his brain had yet to come back online.

"Look, son, I...I know it's tough finding someone...hell...someone your own age." The Sheriff drew a slow, deep breath and looked away from Stiles. "But...But seeing someone older...isn't always smart. You don't know who...who they really are and..."

"Dad! Stop!" Stiles shook his head and rubbed a hand over his face, wishing they weren't having this conversation. "Look, I don't know why you think I'm seeing anyone..."

"I saw you with him."

Stiles' heart pounded against his ribs and his brain began to work in overdrive, trying to think up a logical lie. "Dad...umm..."

"Look, I don't care if you...if you like guys," his father said as looked at Stiles again. "I just...I want you to be safe...and the guy you're...seeing...he looks to be in his thirties and...well you know state laws and it's not legal for you to be with him and..."

"I'm not with him!"

Silence fell over the kitchen and Stiles looked down at his hands, clenched into fists on the table top and tried desperately to get them to relax but it was a lost cause. He slowly looked up, thankful that his father wasn't a werewolf and couldn't hear the rapid beat of his heart. "The guy you saw me with...blue eyes, dark hair and wearing a leather jacket right?"

The Sheriff nodded stiffly and Stiles drew a deep breath.

"He's a friend of Derek's," Stiles somewhat lied, hoping to God it was good enough to convince his father. "I was showing him around town while he's here."

The Sheriff frowned, clearly not buying it. "Why isn't Derek doing that?"

"He's busy renovating the Hale House." Stiles made certain to say that in a _duh, Dad, you should know that_ tone of voice. "So...well...he asked if I could show his buddy around and since Scott's been busy with work and stuff I said sure."

His father stared at him in silence for a few minutes and Stiles felt like those simple minutes were just dragging by. He couldn't take it any longer so he said quickly, "Besides you said it yourself, given the way I dress there's no way I'm gay."

The Sheriff remained silently, but Stiles could practically see the gears turning in his head. After a moment though his father stood, turning towards the counter and picking something up that he hadn't noticed before. Stiles watched as his father turned. "You should probably make certain your...friend...gets his shirt back then," his father said, placing a neatly folded shirt on the table and pushing it towards Stiles.

Stiles stared down at the familiar shirt.

Peter's shirt.

The one Stiles had been wearing off and on for weeks now. The one he'd meant to take out of the laundry and wash himself so his father wouldn't find it. He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat, knowing he couldn't talk himself out of this one because no doubt his father had taken a look at the size of the shirt, and the fact that it was a brand that Stiles never bought, in fact purposely avoided because of the price, and had known instantly that it belonged to someone else.

"Dad..." Stiles looked up at his father, praying he wasn't going to have to call Peter and tell the Alpha wolf to lay low for a while. "I...I..."

The Sheriff sighed through his nose and shook his head. "Just...Just tell me something," he said as he glanced briefly at the shirt before meeting Stiles' gaze. "Are you being safe and...and does he treat you right?"

"Definitely safe," Stiles squeaked a bit, feeling more embarrassed about that than he did about his father finding out he was seeing Peter. Not that his father knew it was Peter but he figured that it was just going to be a matter of time before that happened.

"And the other?"

Stiles quickly thought about Peter's treatment of him. Though most people would say it was a bit rough, Stiles knew that for a werewolf, especially an Alpha, it was as gentle and affectionate as could be expected. He swallowed and gave a quick nod. "Yeah," he said softly, a small smile crossing his face. "Yeah, he treats me right."

The Sheriff gave another nod and reached down to give Stiles' shoulder a squeeze. "I want you to...to experience the world..." He paused clearly trying to find the right words. "I just want you to be safe while you do it."

"Dad..." Stiles reached up, grabbing hold of his father's hand, holding onto it like he had when he'd been small. "Dad...I am safe."

"You don't know that for certain."

Stiles drew a deep breath wanting to argue, to say he was safer with Peter than he ever would be with anyone else but he knew his father wouldn't buy it. The man would worry none the less. So he didn't say anything as his father walked away, heading for work no doubt, and leaving Stiles to contemplate everything that had just happened. He had just started to get up from the table when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Fishing it out, thumbing open the new text message, a smile spread across his face.

_Text From: Peter  
Text Content: <3_


	14. Quiet

Peter knew something was going on when Scott and Isaac showed up at the house without Stiles. He waited a few minutes, thinking the energetic teen would be along shortly, but when Stiles didn't show up he began to worry that something had happened. Pulling Scott aside he calmly asked, politely demanded really, where Stiles was. Scott's attitude suddenly changed. He became very still and quiet.

"He wouldn't want me to say anything." Scott looked away, gaze dropping slightly, but Peter didn't take it as a sign of submission. Scott was too much of an Alpha in his own rights to submit fully to him or even Derek.

"Scott, please," he said as he gripped the young Beta's shoulder. "If something has happened..."

"Nothing's happened." Scott's interruption was quick and the Beta's gaze met his again. "It's just...today...isn't a good day. Not for Stiles. He needs some time to himself."

Peter wanted to ask, to demand, to know what the hell was going on with Stiles but instead he released his hold on Scott, turned and stalked out of the room. He ended up leaving the property all together, driving to Stiles' house and parking a ways down the street before taking his usual path to the back of the house and leaping up to the window. Slipping inside revealed an attempt bedroom. Odd, since Stiles' Jeep was parked in the driveway. Closing his eyes, Peter listened, hearing only one person in the house and it wasn't Stiles.

Letting out a low rumble he grabbed a pillow, inhaled Stiles scent and, after tossing the pillow back on the bed, he was out the window. Much like a search dog, he scented the air, catching Stiles scent and following it. While part of him was surprised that Stiles had walked instead of taking the Jeep the larger part of him was concerned over if the teen was alright. Why had Stiles suddenly decided to change his routine? And what the hell had Scott meant about it not being a good day? If it wasn't a good day why wasn't Scott, who was supposed to be Stiles best friend, with Stiles, showing his unwavering support the way Stiles always did?

The walk was fairly long, leading him clear across town, until he found himself walking through the back end of the Beacon Hills Cemetery. He frowned as he continued to follow Stiles scent. Why had the teen come here of all places?

He spotted the familiar red hoodie that Stiles almost always wore as he reached the top of a small incline. The vibrant red stood out amongst the drab grey stones and he stopped beside a cenotaph, looking closely at Stiles in an attempt to figure out why the teen was sitting in the grass in front of a headstone, head bent, shoulders slumped and overall looking completely and utterly rejected.

He waited a moment, debating his next move, and after a moment he walked over to Stiles.

The teen glanced up when he heard the approaching footsteps, only to look away again when he saw who it was. Peter frowned, unaccustomed to Stiles not giving some witty remark about his sudden appearance. He looked at the headstone and realization dawned on him. Now Scott's remark about today not being a good day made sense. Without a word he sat down behind Stiles, legs to either side of the teen's, and wrapped his arms around Stiles.

Stiles made a soft sound, leaning back against him, wanting the comfort but unable to ask for it. Even from Scott who had known this day was coming when no one else in the pack had. With a deep inhale of breath he pressed a soft kiss to the top of Stiles' head, letting his cheek rest against the same spot. He looked at the headstone, at the name, and tightened his hold on the teen.

_Clarabelle Stilinski_  
July 11, 1971 - September 23, 2008  
Wife Mother Friend  
Forever remembered and loved 

Peter wished he could have met the woman. He wished he could tell her that her son was a wonderful person. He had no doubt she would have been very proud of Stiles. He hugged Stiles again and wasn't surprised when Stiles reached up, hand curling around Peter's wrist and squeezing a bit. He felt tears drip from Stiles' chin onto his arm and reached up to wipe them away.

He wanted to tell Stiles that his mother loved him, to give some reassurance that things were okay, and that the world wasn't just the pain and heartache the teen was currently feeling. But the words stuck in his throat and instead he gave the teen's neck a soft nuzzle, hugging him again, and hoped his gentle actions would convey what he wasn't able to say.

When Stiles suddenly started speaking Peter couldn't help but smile.

"This is Peter, Mom," the teen said softly, his voice cracking and hoarse, a testament to his turbulent emotions. "He's part of the group I told you about earlier. He's one of the leaders." Stiles paused, and Peter pretended not to hear the quickening of the teen's heart.

"He's a good guy, Mom. Really good. You'd like him. I...I think he'd have liked you too."

Peter gave Stiles a squeeze, silently telling the teen he agreed with him.

"I know I already said I miss you," Stiles whispered, hand tightening around Peter's arm. "But...But I really, really do...I miss you...so...so freaking much..."

Stiles' voice broke and a ragged sob passed his lips. Peter instantly turned him, hugging him close and letting Stiles cry into his shoulder, acting as both comforter and shield. He looked at the headstone as he rubbed his hands up and down Stiles' back. Silently promising the woman it represented that he'd take care of her son. That as long as he could he would prevent Stiles from coming to any form of harm.


	15. Scars

Stiles understood, better than most, that not all scars were visible.

Sometimes people carried their scars beneath the surface.

Buried so deep they were able to trick people into thinking there were no scars.

But Stiles knew how, sometimes, the scars could peek through. He knew because he'd gotten very good at hiding his own invisible scars. And sometimes they peeked through. Showing a bit of the hurt, angry teenager he still was beneath the energetic, bouncy exterior. It didn't happen often anymore but because of those few times he'd learned to notice the same things in others.

Like the way he could see Peter's scars.

Sure he'd seen the physical scars before Peter had fully healed, but now, skin whole and unmarred, it was impossible to tell that Peter had even been in the fire that had taken the lives of almost the entire Hale family. But sometimes, when Stiles was looking closely, he noticed little things that told him that Peter was far from healed.

Sometimes Stiles would see Peter touch the side of his face, fingers trailing over skin as though tracing the scars that had been there for six years. Other times Peter's gaze would see so very far away, as though he was lost, trapped in his memories. The scars of the mind were often worse than those of the flesh.

Even now, the pack sitting around the living room, things looking rather normal, Stiles could clearly see that Peter looked lost.

To everyone else it seemed as though Peter was reading, focused on the old book that might have information on the Alpha Pack, but the Alpha wolf's gaze was unfocused and a bit glazed. Stiles could also see the fine tremors running through the man's hands, fingers twitching against the book. Stiles glanced at the rest of the pack, hoping that for once someone else might have noticed the sudden change in Peter, but like all the other times everyone was so wrapped up in what they were doing that they failed to notice that one of their Alpha's wasn't quite right.

Drawing a deep breath Stiles stood, not surprised when Scott looked up at him curiously, but didn't say anything as he walked across the room to where Peter was sitting. He drew another breath and steeled his nerves, not sure what was about to happen, and reached out, hand lightly touching Peter's arm. He winced when Peter jerked swiftly, book falling from his hand which curled lightning fast around the teen's wrist, claws extended, pricking the skin just enough to draw blood and a low growl bubbled up from the Alpha wolf's chest.

"It's okay," Stiles said softly, noticing from the corner of his eye as the rest of the pack stiffened, all unsure of what was going on. "It's okay, Peter."

Peter blinked then, eyes glowing red, as his gaze focused on Stiles' face, as though only now realizing what was going on around him. His hand flexed around the teen's wrist even as his gaze dropped down. The red slowly faded away, revealing the natural blue, as his eyes widened. "Stiles..." Peter's voice was hoarse and he quickly retracted his claws, releasing his grip on the teen's wrist, smearing a bit of blood over pale skin.

"Come on," Stiles said, taking Peter's hand despite the Alpha wolf attempting at moving away, no doubt worried about further hurting the teen.

Stiles tugged Peter to his feet and calmly walked him from the living room, pointedly ignoring the others, who watched them go. Stiles decided the best place to have the long overdue conversation was in the backyard, that was Peter wouldn't feel trapped or boxed in. Plus the weather was nice and he figured fresh air would probably do Peter some good. He may not be able to hear Peter's heart or smell his emotions but he could still tell that the situation had stressed the Alpha wolf.

They walked to a small grove of trees, where Lydia had put a little bench a few weeks after the renovations on the house had been finished, and got Peter to sit down next to him. He never let go the Alpha wolf's hand. He drew a slow, deep breath, gathering his thoughts before he finally spoke.

"You know...I...I know you may not want to talk...about what happened with your family...but I...I think it might help...to...at least know you can."

Peter frowned slightly.

"Stiles..."

"You get distant, you know?" Stiles looked at Peter's face, seeing the weariness that the Alpha wolf was usually so good at hiding. "You just...it's like you're living in your head for some pretty length periods at a time and...and I get worried that sometimes you're not going to come out of it."

He reached up with his free hand, gently touching Peter's cheek, the one that had been so badly burned. "Your body healed," he said softly, thumb rubbing gently. "But...But you're still carrying scars. I know what that's like. The scars being where people can't see. Everyone thinks you're okay...but...but it's almost like you die a little bit inside and they don't even notice."

Peter's fingers tangled with his, squeezing a bit, and Stiles saw the look in the Alpha wolf's eyes. The one that said he wanted to open up but wasn't certain how to or even if he should.

"You don't have to talk now," Stiles said as he rubbed Peter's cheek with his thumb again. "I just...I want you to know that I'm here if you do."

Peter gave a small nod, turning his head just a bit, pressing a kiss to Stiles' palm.

"Thank you," the Alpha wolf said softly, a small smile as his face.

Stiles nodded.

He understood that it would take time, probably more time than they would ever have really, for the scars Peter still suffered from to be healed. Stiles wasn't even certain if he was the right person to try and help heal them but he was willing to try. He was willing to take a chance to help someone who both needed and deserved to be helped. Because he knew what it was like to have unhealed scars and how hard it was to try and fix everything alone.

Peter had spent years alone, broken and burned, it was time someone stood beside him.

Stiles was more than happy to be that someone.


	16. Thanks

The sirens of the police cars and fire trucks bothered Peter in a way that he would never say. It stirred memories that he'd rather leave buried.

He glanced down the street to the old warehouse that was still burning though the fire department had managed to contain the blaze. He was sitting on the sidewalk, all but hidden by Stiles' Jeep, holding Stiles against his chest, waiting for the teen's father to return. The man had told him to wait there until an ambulance got to the scene but with a seven car accident on the highway it might be a while.

Peter knew Stiles was fine, he'd scented for injuries and was monitoring the teen's heartbeat and breathing for fluctuations that would single any change in Stiles' immediate health. Drawing a deep breath, Peter forced himself to remain calm, Stiles needed him calm and in control. If he had been calm and in control earlier then Stiles never would have been hit by that other Alpha and this whole situation would not be happening.

Glancing back at the fire he remembered carrying Stiles from the blaze which the Alpha Pack had started, hoping he and Stiles wouldn't be able to escape. Of course by the time he'd been able to get out of the building, Stiles carried safely in his arms, the police and fire department had been on scene. The Sheriff had panicked at the sight of his son, unconscious, but had to focus on being in control of the scene and had merely told Peter to go over by the Jeep and wait.

Looking back down at Stiles he could easily see the bruise that was already forming on the teen's cheek. It enraged Peter that he hadn't better protected Stiles. Hugging the teen closer, pressing a quick kiss to Stiles' temple, h silently vowed that he wouldn't make the same mistake again. The next time he saw that Alpha the bitch was going to pay for daring to lay her hands on Stiles.

Approaching footsteps, hurried ones, drew Peter's gaze and he watched as the Sheriff came jogging up.

"How is he?"

"No worse," Peter said as calmly as he could, though his voice still shook.

The Sheriff knelt down, reaching out and carefully turning Stiles' head, checking the forming bruise. "Do you know how that happened?"

Peter shook his head. "I saw the Jeep and went to find him."

"Scott wasn't with him?"

Another head shake. "Scott's been with my nephew since late this afternoon."

Sheriff frowned as he briefly glanced up from his son. "Your nephew?"

"Derek Hale."

The Sheriff made a low sound. "Stiles said you were just Derek's friend from out of town."

"I don't know why he would say that. It's not as though I've anything to hide or..."

"I know the two of you are together."

Silence descended and Peter wasn't sure what to say. He should deny it, say the Sheriff was mistaken, but he could see in the man's eyes that yes, he most certainly knew about him and Stiles. "I assure you it's not...well it's not...I've never hurt or forced him. I'd never do that."

"He said you were a good guy," the Sheriff said, cupping his son's cheek.

"I wasn't always." Peter's gaze fixed to Stiles' face as he remembered the night on the lacrosse field, the way the teen had stared him down over Lydia. He still believed that was the moment he truly developed any sort of affection for Stiles. "He's why I'm trying to be better."

The Sheriff looked at him in silence for a moment, clearly considering his words.

"You love him don't you?"

Peter looked up at the Sheriff then, surprised at how calm the man sounded. Even his heartbeat was calm. The Alpha wolf didn't know if he would have been that calm if he was in the Sheriff's position. Most men, especially those in law enforcement, wouldn't be thrilled to learn their only child was involved with someone old enough to be their father. But the Sheriff seemed to be a very special, and exceptional, man. Peter knew then where Stiles got it.

"Yes," the Alpha wolf finally said softly as his gaze returned to Stiles. "Yes, I do."

The Sheriff gave a nod. Approaching sirens, those of an ambulance, rang through the air and the man glanced briefly over his shoulder. "They'll be here soon," he said as he looked back at Peter. "I can't leave the scene yet, the fire chief still needs to talk about this."

"I'll go with Stiles."

"Thank you," the Sheriff said as he reached up and gripped Peter's shoulder in a way that spoke volumes. "For everything and anything you have done for him."

"It's..."

"Don't say it's nothing." The grip on his shoulder tightened. "You saved my son's life tonight and given all the crazy stuff that's been going on lately I'm willing to bet you've kept him safe lots of times when his curiosity would have otherwise put him in danger. So for whatever you've done for him, to keep him safe even if it wasn't deliberate, thank you."

Someone, the fire chief no doubt, shouted for the Sheriff and the man called back that he was coming just as the ambulance reached them. Looking at Peter again the Sheriff gave the Alpha wolf's shoulder a squeeze. "Thank you," he said again before waving the EMTs over and dashing off to do his job.

Peter watched the man go before turning his attention to the EMTs who knelt, asking for information about Stiles as they got him onto a stretcher. Explaining what he knew without giving too many details that would raise more questions, Peter moved with them, climbing into the back of the ambulance even when one of the EMTs gave him a questioning look. He sat back, out of the way, letting them do their jobs and just before the doors closed he saw the Sheriff looking back.

The man nodded to him, another acknowledgement of thanks, and Peter nodded back.


	17. Death

Peter felt frozen as he watched the female Alpha lift Stiles up by the front of his shirt, her eyes blazing red, giving the teen a slap to the face before throwing him across the clearing. Peter's heart leapt into his throat as Stiles went crashing into the water. He heard Scott and Isaac roar, both Betas charging the female Alpha, taking her down while Derek joined the fray. While part of him demanded he rip the bitch's head off he was already running for the river. He dove into the water just as he heard the female Alpha's howl of pain. Derek obviously dealing with her.

Despite the darkness of the water Peter spotted Stiles, floating a few feet down, not moving.

Panic spiked through him but the Alpha wolf pushed it down, needing to focus on getting to Stiles and getting him the hell out of the water. Getting hold of Stiles, Peter kicked to the surface, keeping Stiles head up as he started to swim backwards towards the shore. He was nearly there, praying he'd gotten to Stiles in time, only to snarl when hands suddenly grabbed hold of him.

"It's me, Peter!" Erica's voice was high, higher than normal, and despite the water he could smell her anxiety. With her help he got Stiles to the bank, laying him flat on his back and checked for breath since he could hear the faint patter of Stiles' heart.

The Alpha wolf's panic spiked again as he realized that Stiles wasn't breathing.

Checking the teen's throat, in case the bitch of an Alpha had done serious damage, Peter heard Erica asking if Stiles was going to be okay. He ignored the young Beta in favour of beginning CPR. Three long breaths and then chest compressions, he could smell Erica's rising fear, heard her calling out for someone to help them, but kept his focus on Stiles. After fifteen compressions he checked for breathing before starting the process all over again.

He was vaguely aware of the rest of the pack gathering around them, saw Scott out of the corner of his eye, but kept working on Stiles. With each passing second his panic, his fear, grew. What if he couldn't save Stiles? His heart pounded against his ribs as he started working a little harder.

"Come on, Stiles," he heard himself saying, not able to stop the words from tumbling forth. "Come on!"

He heard Derek say something about it being too late and Scott's snarling response to not say shit like that. Erica whined and Isaac made a choked sound as though fighting back tears. Peter ignored all of it and continued with the CPR. "Fight damn it!" He felt tears rolling down his face as he looked at Stiles' pale face, still doing chest compressions. "Come on fight! Don't you dare give up! Not you! You fight for everyone else now fight for yourself, goddamn it!"

A ragged sob fell from his throat after performing mouth-to-mouth again and starting in on another round of chest compressions. "Damn it, Stiles," he cried, unable to stop himself. "You can't do this! You can't leave me! You can't! I need you!" His arms started to shake. "Please...Please God...don't take him too...please...Stiles..."

Peter felt Erica touch his arm, he wasn't certain what she was trying to accomplish, but he kept going with the CPR, even when Derek whispered that he should stop. He ignored his nephew, ignored everything, focusing on Stiles. He let out another sob, thinking maybe Derek was right, as much as it killed part of him, maybe his nephew was...

Stiles coughed suddenly, water flying from his mouth, and a collective sound of relief went through the pack.

Peter made a low sound, carefully turning Stiles onto his side, rubbing the teen's back as Stiles coughed up a bit more water before inhaling shakily. "You're okay," the Alpha wolf whispered as Stiles shook, dazedly looking around, confused no doubt as to what was going okay. "You're okay, Stiles."

Peter gathered Stiles into his arms, the panic finally leaving him, relief flooding in. "Let's get you home," the Alpha wolf said as he slowly stood, holding Stiles bridal style, looking at Derek who gave a nod, the rest of the pack standing closer than usual, all concerned for Stiles.

_oOoOoOo_

An hour later and Peter left Stiles dozing in bed while slipped down to the kitchen to get the teen something warm to drink. He had just stepped into the kitchen when Erica turned from the counter, holding a tray with two cups of hot chocolate and cookies. She held it out to him.

"I thought you and Stiles might like this," the young Beta said as he took the tray.

He nodded. "Thank you."

Erica gave a small smile and he had just started to turn away when she said his name softly he looked at her again.

"What you did...fighting for Stiles like that...it was amazing."

"I did what anyone would have done."

Erica shook her head. "Anyone else would have stopped. Derek even told you too but you kept fighting."

"I'm an Alpha," Peter said as though that explained everything. "I always fight for my pack members."

"I know, but it's different with Stiles." She touched his arm. "You love him."

Peter made a low sound but didn't both denying it. Erica gave his arm a slight squeeze.

"Now," she said as she let go of him, stepping back with a smile. "Get back upstairs and take care of your man."

Peter chuckled and made his way back upstairs. He wasn't surprised to find Stiles sitting up when he walked into the bedroom, nudging the door shut behind him. "You're supposed to be resting," he said as he walked over, placing the tray on the bedside table.

"I'm fine." Stiles gave a weak smile as Peter sat next to him.

Peter reached over and cupped the back of Stiles' head, fingers rubbing over the short strands of the teen's hair. "You almost drowned."

"But now I'm fine." Stiles leaned into Peter's touch. "Thanks to you."

Peter rumbled, leaning forward to nuzzle Stiles' neck, running a hand over the teen's side as though to reassure himself that Stiles was actually fine. "Thought I was going to lose you tonight," the Alpha wolf whispered against Stiles' neck. "Was so afraid that I'd lost you. Afraid you'd been taken just like my family."

Stiles hugged Peter closer, combing his fingers through the Alpha wolf's hair. "I'm right here," he said softly, tears filling his eyes as he realized just how hard tonight had been for Peter. "I'm safe because of you. Because you didn't give up. You brought me back from death, Peter. You did."

Peter rumbled loudly, the sound purely wolf, and nuzzled Stiles neck again. Stiles in returned kissed the Alpha wolf's temple, thanking whatever God was listening that Peter hadn't given up on him. He swore then that he'd never give up on Peter either.


	18. Summer

Stiles flopped down on the grass beneath a large oak tree, sweating and dying from the heat.

It was the hottest summer in the last ten years and Stiles swore he was melting. Most people stayed indoors with the air conditioning cranked up and fans blowing and he would have been more than happy to be one of those people but Scott insisted on dragging him out to the Hale House with him for a pack meeting that really Stiles really didn't want to go to. The only reason he'd agreed was because Scott promised they'd go swimming afterwards. Of course halfway through the pack meeting Scott got a text from Allison and the minute he could had left the house, and abandoned Stiles, in favour of spending time with his not-ex-girlfriend.

The pack had gone swimming regardless, but the hike through the woods had not been enjoyable and even the cool, inviting water couldn't draw Stiles from the shade of the tree.

Under normal weather conditions Stiles might have been angry that Scott had ditched him. But this was becoming a growing occurrence anyways. Allison called and Scott dropped everything to be at her beck and call. Plus the heat, coupled with the hike from the house to the creek, had sapped him of any strength. Physical or emotional. He just wanted to lay there and pretend he wasn't slowly roasting.

He lifted his head enough to see the others enjoying the water. Erica laughing as Boyd lifted her, throwing her out into the deepest part of the creek. He couldn't help but smile when Isaac tackled Derek from behind, dragging their younger Alpha into the water with him, Derek smiling like a big brother who was merely indulging a younger sibling but Stiles knew the old sour wolf wasn't as cold as he let on. He looked for Peter but the elder Alpha wasn't anywhere Stiles could see without moving from his current resting spot and, despite his curiosity, he was not moving until it was absolutely necessary.

Flopping back down into the grass he closed his eyes as a trickle of sweat rolled down his temple. The heat felt like a living, breathing creature pressing down on him and he grunted softly, knowing he should probably crawl over to the creek and at least dunk his head but he didn't feel like exerting anymore energy than necessary. And, despite the unbelievable heat, he was rather comfortable right where he was.

At least until something large and wet toppled down onto him.

The sudden cold made him yelp as his eyes flew open and he weakly struggled to try and get out from whatever had fallen on him, only to stop when he realized it was Peter.

"Are you trying to kill me?!" Stiles pushed as the Alpha wolf's shoulders, attempting to get the man off him. "You scared me half to death!"

Peter grinned that wicked little grin that told Stiles the Alpha wolf was up to something but before he could even begin to try and figure out what that something was, Peter stood, grabbing and lifting him, making him cry out in surprise when he was suddenly tossed over the Alpha wolf's shoulder. "What the hell are you..."

Stiles' words turned into a shocked shout as he was promptly, yet carefully, tossed into the water. He sputtered and spit when he broke back through the surface, glaring at Peter, who grinned down at him.

"Have you forgotten that I almost drowned a few weeks ago?!" 

Stiles' words didn't really hold any anger, but he continued to glare even as Peter, still grinning, joined him in the water. Moving as gracefully as a great white shark circling a seal. _Predator all right_ , Stiles thought as he tried to keep turning, tried to keep Peter in his sights, but failed when his foot slipped on a rock and he stumbled, arms pin wheeling as he caught his balance. When he looked up he found Peter had vanished, the water rippling where the Alpha wolf had been standing.

Looking around revealed nothing more than the others watching with amusement. That was so not good. Stiles turned a complete three-sixty, hoping to figure out where Peter had gone, wondering absently if this was some sort of werewolf game that he just didn't understand. He had just started to turn towards Derek, to ask him where the hell Peter was, when he was suddenly grabbed from behind and pulled backwards and downwards. Yelping in surprise his arms once again pin wheeled but there was no regaining his balance as he was drug deeper into the water.

He heard a deep, rich chuckle in his ear, felt the familiar touch of Peter's fingers on his arms, and with a grunt he managed to turn, hands slipping over the Alpha wolf's wet shoulders as he shoved downwards, attempting to push Peter beneath the water's surface. "Rotten, no good, sneaky Psycho Wolf!" There was laughter in his shout and he heard Erica snicker and Peter's chuckle as the Alpha wolf pretended to struggle to get free.

"Don't kill the Psycho Wolf," Peter exclaimed with mock fear, grinning the entire time. "We're an endangered species!"

Everyone was laughing as they watched the exchange between Peter and Stiles, and eventually the two gave up attempting to drown each other in favour of floating through the water, Peter still grinning and Stiles breathing a little harder from over doing it. The Alpha wolf reached over, dragging Stiles through the water until the teen's back was pressed to his chest, arm wrapped around Stiles' slim waist. Stiles hummed softly, head reclining against Peter's shoulder, staring up at the fluffy white clouds floating through a clear blue sky.

"We should do this more often," Stiles mused aloud, turning his head enough that he could look at Peter's face.

"What? Play fight?"

Stiles smacked the Alpha wolf's arm. "I meant this," he said as he gestured widely with one hand. "Take a day or something and just relax. It's not good to be stressed out all the time you know?"

Peter made a soft, agreeing sound, kissing Stiles' forehead despite the teen's nose wrinkling at the public display of affection. "Summer days were made for relaxing," Peter said as Stiles' hand covered his own, their fingers laced together. "Made for just taking time for ourselves."

Stiles nodded his agreement. It might have been the hottest day of the summer, Scott may have ditched him, but it had still been one of the best days in Stiles' recent memory. He rubbed his cheek against Peter's shoulder, deciding that the Alpha wolf was right. This was what summer days were made for.


	19. Transformation

Stiles had seen a lot.

Hanging out with a pack of werewolves was the primary reason for that.

He'd seen, and survived, near death experiences.

He's seen werewolves change right in front of him, the human part of them slipping away and letting the animal take its place. He'd seen Alpha wolves go from a human form to that of a wolf and even the monstrous form that he was fairly certain had been the inspiration for the Hollywood movies and myths.

Yes, he'd seen a lot of things.

But the one thing he found amazing, the thing that he knew would always stick with him, was the transformation he witnessed in Peter after the Alpha wolf's resurrection. He could still clearly remember the Peter he'd met the night Lydia had been attacked, the Peter that had forced him into helping him track down Derek. The Peter that had killed in the name of his murdered family. But the Peter that Stiles met in the warehouse the night Jackson finally became a werewolf wasn't the same Peter that the teen remembered.

This new Peter still had the arrogance, the swagger and cold glare, but there was something else, something in his pale eyes that hadn't been there before.

Or maybe it had been, but Stiles hadn't been able to see it through the madness. Maybe Peter's pain and grief had driven him into insanity but death had brought him back. That or killing Kate, avenging the family he hadn't been able to save, had given his mind the peace it needed in order to heal, to come back from the darkness it had lived in for six years.

Stiles watched Peter fairly closely at first, waiting for the Alpha wolf to show his true colors and attempt to kill them all in revenge for his death. But as time progressed Stiles saw the small differences, the way Peter would continuously try to help, the way he gave knowledge, limited as it was, about the Alpha Pack. And then there was the fact that he'd helped to save Erica and Boyd. Stiles hadn't immediately trusted Peter, a few good deeds were not enough for that, but he had decided to give the Alpha wolf a second chance.

And the night that Peter had saved him from an ambush by the Alpha Pack, the night Peter had refused to leave his side, even after he'd stated, several times, that he was fine and the Alpha wolf could go, that night he saw something in Peter that he would never have seen if he'd continued thinking of the Alpha wolf as the lunatic he'd met months before. He saw the man Peter must have been before the fire. The man Peter must have been before the hunters had destroyed the Alpha wolf's world.

And Stiles had felt like his heart was breaking.

After that he'd been a bit nicer to Peter.

Not enough that anyone would notice or think something was up, but just enough to try and show Peter that his opinion of the Alpha wolf had changed. And as the days passed, Stiles saw the changes, no matter how small, that took place in the Alpha wolf. He saw the way Peter opened up, helping Derek teach the younger wolves to control their instincts, to fight and sense when there was something dangerous. He saw how Peter bonded with Isaac, who needed a strong yet kind paternal figure. He saw the way Peter's calm demenour, his patience, helped bring Boyd out of his shell. He saw how Peter was able to talk Erica down when she became upset or angry, something Derek had yet to figure out. Both Scott and Jackson had been very standoffish with Peter, but Stiles saw them coming around too, listening and accepting Peter's advice when the Alpha wolf offered it, especially if it was something concerning Allison or Lydia.

With Derek things had changed too. Peter, though an Alpha himself, deferred to Derek, let Derek lead the pack, and acted as council when the younger Alpha was unsure. He steered Derek in the best course without having to take over. Because of this the pack became stronger, more certain of themselves and closer to each other.

Even now watching as Peter and Lydia worked to translate the Argent Bestiary, Stiles could see the changes taking place in the Alpha wolf. When he'd first resurrected Peter hadn't been able to be in the same room as Lydia. He got this ashamed look on his face and would hurry out. Lydia hadn't exactly had a better reaction. She'd given the Alpha wolf a look that said she clearly wanted to slap him at the minimum or gut him as most. It had taken time but when Lydia had complained about being the only person in the pack who could read Archaic Latin and Peter had quietly spoken up, saying he could read it, things had slowly gone from hostile to somewhat amicable and finally to all out friendly banter and smiles.

Stiles smiled as he watched Peter point something out to Lydia, who smiled and nodded, grabbing a pen to quickly write something in the notebook sitting between them.

Leaning back in his chair, Stiles continued to watch, still smiling.

_oOoOoOo_

Peter knew that everyone was seeing the changes in him. He knew Derek was glad of those changes but he also knew his nephew was a little ignorant of why he had changed. His nephew, just like the rest of the pack, assumed death had played a role in his change. But no one, save for Lydia, had figured out the real, primary reason for his attempt to be a better man. To be different.

He glanced, subtly of course, across the room at Stiles, who was watching him and Lydia while pretending to read a book. The teen was smiling, that little smile that said he knew something others didn't, and Peter chuckled softly. His attention was drawn back to Lydia when she touched his arm.

"You should tell him," she said softly, so only Peter would hear.

"I think it would freak him out."

She shook her head. "He's stronger than you give him credit for." She looked over at Stiles and smiled when she looked back at Peter. "He stared you down for me after all."

Peter smiled as he remembered that night. The lacrosse field. The smell of blood. The fierce determination in Stiles' eyes. It had been in that moment, when Stiles had been so willing to fight an Alpha wolf for his prey, that Peter had first wished things could be different. He wished he was whole. He wished he was better. He wanted to be more than a killer, hunting down those responsible for his family's murder. He wanted to be someone who Stiles would smile at, would defend as fiercely as he had defended and fought for Lydia. But at the time that was impossible. When he'd realized the odds of him dying were increasing he'd taken steps to insure his survival. He had learned to always have a backup plan. 

A second chance.

"You should tell him," Lydia said again, pulling the Alpha wolf from his thoughts.

"Soon." Peter glanced again at Stiles, as the reason he was trying to be better, and his smile widened a bit. "I promise."


	20. Nightmare

_The heat was excruciating and he couldn't breath for the smoke hanging in the air. He tried the door but it wouldn't budge. He slammed his shoulder into the wood over and over again, trying to force it, trying to use the strength he knew he had in order to at least get it open enough for the children, for Cassie, to fit through. He didn't care if he made it out, but the children and his brother's mate had to be saved, they had to be rescued._

_A scream drew his attention and he whirled around, searching through the dancing flames, through the billowing smoke, trying to find his sister-in-law by sight because the smoke was killing his sense of smell. He called her name, screamed it over the roar of the fire, the screams of those already lost to the flames. He looked everywhere, trying to find her, knowing Laura and Derek would need her._

_And then he saw her._

_Standing amongst the flames, skin burned away and eyes wide, full of fear and pain and her mouth open. He flinched away when she reached for him, crying his name over and over, begging him to save them. Other voices joined hers and when he looked he saw his family, the people he loved and cared for above all else, burned and burning, begging for him to save them. To protect them like he always promised he would._

_They all reached for him, their touch igniting his clothing, his skin, his hair. Pain like he'd never imagined shot through him. His ability to heal not enough to protect him from the sheer agony of it. Looking up from his burning hands, when had he looked down at them, he found his family had disappeared but in their place was the one person who should not be here. Who couldn't be here._

_Dark eyes and pale skin burned away in front of him. Slowly stripping away everything of the person he loved._

_Falling back against the door he screamed._

Peter woke with the scream stuck in his throat.

He sat straight up in bed, sweat drenched and he fought to breathe passed the rather large lump in his throat. Fear clogging his veins like a living, breathing creature. He could still smell the smoke, feel the heat of the fire, could hear the screams of his family as they burned around him. Part of him, old instincts, told him there was still time, he could save his family if he was quick enough, and his body twitched as he readied himself to get out of bed, to rush down to the basement to those who needed him, but a deep inhale of breath, scenting the air around him, helped him push the sleep addled instinct aside.

There was no fire.

His pack was safe.

He silently repeated those two simple phrases to himself as he struggled to push away the fear, the memories, of a loss that, for six long years, had defined his very being.

When a hand touched his back he instinctively jerked, the panic and fear brought on by the nightmare still running rampant through him. The hand slid upwards, following his spine then a body was pressing against his back, the familiar lines and muscles of the smaller form a stronger reminder than his silent mantra. Thin, yet strong, arms wrapped around his torso, one hand splayed over his bare abdomen and the other cover the spot above his heart. A soft kiss was pressed to his shoulder, then his neck and then the spot behind his ear before a soothing voice whispered in his ear.

"It's okay," the soft voice washed over him, helping him to relax a little bit. "It's okay, Peter. It was a dream. Just a bad dream."

The Alpha wolf reached up, his hand covering the hand over his heart, giving it a gentle squeeze, just to reassure himself. He closed his eyes and drew several deep breaths, not just to calm himself but to inhale the rich scent of his companion. To assure himself that the other was there, that he wasn't dreaming or back in a coma. After a moment he opened his eyes and turned, arms going around the slender figure. Fingers began running through his hair and he made a low sound, not quite a whine but too soft to be a rumble.

He clung tightly to his companion, clung tightly to Stiles, and tried to maintain enough control of himself that his claws wouldn't accidentally slip out and hurt the teen who was offering him comfort when most others would have just left him alone to deal with the nightmare that had plagued him for so long most doctors would have considered it a symptom of PTSD. With another of those low sounds, the Alpha wolf pressed his face into the slope of Stiles' neck, breathing in the scent, fingers all but kneading against the teen's shoulder blades. 

One of Stiles' hands continued to comb through his hair while the other rubbed soothing circles over his back and he wasn’t at all surprised when Stiles began gently rocking him. It might have seemed odd, but that simple gesture, rocking him comfortingly, did more to calm him than anything else. It always did. Stiles might have been young but he understood that giving comfort varied for everyone.

After a few minutes of nothing but the sound of their breathing filling the air around them Stiles softly whispered "Do you want to talk about it?"

The teen didn't push, didn't insist that talking would help make things better. He never did. And for that Peter was deeply grateful. Stiles understood that talking didn't always fix things. But whenever Peter woke from a nightmare there Stiles was, offering to listen even though he knew that the Alpha wolf would just shake his head and insist they just lay back down and try to sleep.

_But tonight can be different_ , Peter decided suddenly, pressing closer to Stiles, able to feel the teen's heart beat, soft and steady, through layers of flesh and muscle.

"It was the night my family died," he whispered hoarsely, voice cracked from the scream that hadn't quite cleared his throat.

Stiles arms tightened around him, as though to shield him from the memories, and he couldn't help but smile against Stiles' skin. Always so protective his Stiles.

"You were there," he continued a moment later, his hands flexing against Stiles' back, a reflex to reassure himself again that it had been a dream and that Stiles was alright. "I couldn't...I...I couldn't save you...I...I failed you..."

Tears began to roll down his face as he recalled the final moments of the dream, of watching Stiles burn just like his family had, and he fought down the sob that threatened to break free. Stiles just hugged him tighter, if it was possible, and kissed his temple.

"It wasn't real," the teen whispered, pressing kiss after kiss to the Alpha wolf's temple. "I'm right here." Kiss. "I am." Kiss. "Right." Kiss. "Here."

Stiles pressed his face into Peter's hair, inhaling and catching the mix of Peter's natural smell and the citrus shampoo the Alpha wolf favoured. "You've saved me so many times," he whispered, feeling Peter's tears as they dropped from the Alpha wolf's face and onto his skin, each one like a tiny brand. "You're always there when I need you. And I know you always will be. You haven't failed me. You never will."

The sobs Peter had been holding back, fighting against, finally slipped free at the emotion, the truth, he heard in Stiles' voice and heartbeat. The nightmare had been terrible, something Peter never wanted to relive or dream again, but he knew if he did, that Stiles would always be there for him. He clung to the teen, breaking emotionally in a way he hadn't before, and the entire time Stiles just held him. Let him break and was willing to be there to help him pick up the pieces again.


	21. Kneel

As an Alpha wolf, Peter was not submissive. It just wasn't in his nature. It often led to him and Derek butting heads. Both stubborn and insistent on being top animal in the pack. Submission was for Betas, Omegas and humans. Not for him.

Yet here he was, on his knees, before a human.

But then, Stiles Stilinski wasn’t just any human.

He was Peter’s.

The Alpha wolf listened to each soft moan, each throaty cry, and knew that there was no where else that he would rather be than on his knees, lips pressing sweet, butterfly kisses along the smooth, pale skin of Stiles' abdomen. Each kiss brought forth more of those beautiful sounds and the more he heard, the more he wanted to hear them. Nipping lightly at the skin just below Stiles' navel, he took a great deal of pride in being the one to draw forth the throaty gasp from the teen's throat.

Stiles fingers tangled in Peter's hair, clenching and unclenching with every kiss, every nip and lick, body arching, pushing closer to the Alpha wolf's mouth. He whimpered as Peter sucked up a dark mark into the skin of his hip.

Peter glanced up through his lashes as he continued licking his way down, pausing long enough to unfasten Stiles' jeans, pushing them down slowly, smirking as the scent of Stiles' desire hit him right in the face. He leaned forward and nuzzled against the bugle in the teen's briefs, causing Stiles to gasp, hips stuttering forward, instinctively seeking more friction. Running his hands over Stiles' thighs, he pressed a kiss to the cotton covered cock, causing Stiles to make another of those low, throaty sounds. With a soft groan of his own, Peter sucked at Stiles' cock through the cotton, groaning again when Stiles tugged his hair, hips pushing forward.

"Peter..." Stiles' voice was raspy, full of need, and Peter wasn't one to deny his lover anything.

Tugging Stiles' briefs down, watching as the teen's erection sprang free of its confines, slapping against Stiles' stomach, leaving a glistening spot of pre-come. Without hesitating the Alpha wolf leaned forward and licked that spot, the flavour bursting across his tongue with a sweet yet slightly bitter familiarity. He rumbled loudly, looking again, up through his lashes to see Stiles' face. Pale skin flushed and eyes blown nearly black with desire.

The Alpha wolf made a low sound, something of a mix between a growl and a rumble, before he dipped his head and swallowed Stiles' length.

Stiles let out a sharp cry, hips snapping forward without a thought and his hands tightened in Peter's hair. The Alpha wolf's response was to suck, to run his tongue along the underside of the teen's cock. He steadied Stiles by gripping his hips, fingers pressing, digging into the pale skin, the strong muscle. He could feel the ripples of desire pulsing through Stiles as he pulled back, one hand moving to grip the base of Stiles' cock, listening to the beautiful sounds pouring from the teen's mouth as he licked along the underside of his cock until his tongue reached the head, curling up and over, a bit of gentle pressure at the slit, dipping in to taste the liquid pooled there.

"Peter...oh God...Peter please...please..."

With a last lick, Peter slid his mouth down, once again swallowing Stiles to the root, making Stiles cry out at the wet warmth enveloping him. The tongue snaking over delicate, sensitised skin as the Alpha wolf's head bobbed, sucking lewdly. He felt dizzy and his cock throbbed as Peter licked at the base, the Alpha wolf's hand slipping down to cup his balls and roll them, squeezing just enough to bring him right to the edge but not enough to push him over it.

"Please," he whimpered, fingers tugging at Peter's hair, trying to encourage the Alpha wolf to do more. Just a little bit more. "Please, I need…I need to…"

Peter hummed, making Stiles gasp and his entire body jerk, hips pushing forward again. The Alpha wolf peered up at him, red starting to bleed into those beautiful blue eyes. He saw the desire burning in those eyes and he let out a hoarse cry when Peter's tongue ran over the head of his cock again pulling off, a thin trail of saliva and pre-come suspended between his lower lip and Stiles' cock. The sight alone sent shivers of need through the teen.

"What do you need, Genim?" Peter licked his lip, breaking the trail, which dribbled down onto Stiles' cock, making him shiver. "Hmm? What do you need?"

Stiles panted loudly, squirming when Peter rolled his balls, thumb pressing against the base of his cock. "I...I need to come...please...please Peter..."

He cried out when Peter once again swallowed him completely, sucking until his cheeks hollowed, tongue pressing and flicking at the underside of Stiles' cock.

"Peter!" Stiles' hips bucked. "Oh god, oh god, oh god! Yes...yes...please... _Yes!_ "

Stiles screamed as he lost himself to his orgasm, spilling into Peter's mouth, barely able to notice through the white blur in his mind as the Alpha wolf swallowed everything he had to give. He wasn't sure how he managed to stay on his feet until Peter was gently pulling him down, nuzzling at his neck once they were level with one another, Stiles panting for breath, fingers slowly, almost sleepily, combing through Peter's hair until he slow started to reach for Peter's fly, intending to return the favour, only to be stopped when the Alpha wolf caught his hand.

The question must have been written on his face because Peter smirked and looked down pointedly. Stiles followed his gaze and stared for a moment at the wet spot staining the front of Peter's jeans. He then smirked, knowing it had been because of him that Peter, Mr Macho Alpha Werewolf, had creamed his pants like a teenager. Peter nipped at his chin, clearly knowing exactly what Stiles was thinking, and Stiles just chuckled at him.

Peter went back to nuzzling Stiles' neck, rumbling contentedly, hands roaming, petting really, Stiles' back and shoulders.

He may be an Alpha, but sometimes kneeling before someone wasn't such a bad thing.


	22. Mate

Stiles hit the ground with a grunt, glaring up at the hunter who had shoved him back. The man's focus wasn't on him though. The hunter was watching Allison, who had her bow aimed at Peter, who was already injured and on the ground, attempting to yank an arrow from his leg. They'd been out for a run, taking time for them before the full moon tomorrow, when the hunters had came out of nowhere. Peter had tried to lead them away but without Chris Argent to rein them in the hunters had proved to be relentless. And Allison had been leading the charge.

Now Peter was injured, surrounded by hunters, with Allison readying to kill the Alpha wolf.

Stiles scrambled up so he was on his hands and knees, barely registering when his hand closed around a good sized rock. His attention focused fully on the scene before him, watching as Allison taunted Peter by shooting the ground by the Alpha wolf's hip, nocking another arrow against her bow with a smile. Peter growled, eyes glowing red, but Stiles saw the glimmer of fear in the Alpha wolf's eyes. Peter was strong and brave yes, but in the face of hunters, when Stiles was present and in danger, most of what he did was bravado to draw attention away from Stiles.

Allison said something then, some taunt Stiles couldn't hear, but whatever it had been it made Peter growl in warning. Which only made Allison smile more. Like she knew she was getting to him. She shifted her aim, lifting the bow so her arrow was pointed towards the Alpha wolf's chest.

Stiles hand tightened around the rock, the edge biting into his palm.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen his so called friend point a weapon at Peter with the intent of killing him. It wasn't the first time he'd been knocked aside while trying to defend the Alpha wolf. And it most definitely wasn't the first time he'd seen someone put fear in Peter's eyes by threatening him. 

But this was going to be the last.

"Hey!"

Stiles moved as he shouted, the hunter who'd shoved him down turning, and he smashed the rock he still had into the man's face. Blood flew and he heard the crunch of the hunter's nose as it broke. The shout of pain distracted the other hunters enough that they took no notice of Stiles grabbing the gun of the hunter he'd just hit. As the man hit the ground, hand covering his face, Stiles stepped around him, moving towards Allison, who was looking at him with slightly wide eyes.

"Stiles, what..."

Her words died the moment he pointed the Glock at her.

"Put the bow down." His words were firm, anger clipping them slightly, and his hand didn't shake. "Now."

Allison shook her head, her eyes telling him that she didn't believe that he would actually do anything. "The gun's not even..."

With a quick move he flicked the gun's safety off and chambered a round. "Sheriff dad, remember," he said calmly when Allison looked surprised at his knowledge of the firearm he held. "He made sure I'd be able to defend myself if I ever had too. Funny enough I don't think he'd ever planned on the situation being quite like this."

He drew a slow, deep breath, steadying himself as his fingers tightened around the grip of the gun. "You're going to put the bow down," he said as he took a small step forward. "And then you're going to take your goods and go. And just so you know, if any of them make a move towards Peter, or me, I'm going to put a bullet in you."

Allison shook her head again, smiling slightly. "You won't. I know you..."

The gunshot rang out and the bullet impacted with a tree just to the right of Allison.

He watched as her eyes widened almost comically, looking from the tree to Stiles. She opened and closed her mouth for a moment, clearly at a loss, so Stiles took the opportunity to speak again.

"You're leaving, now," he took another step forward, seeing the other hunters twitch, but they didn't make a move towards him, obviously knowing he wasn't kidding around anymore. "Because I'm not going to stand here and watch as you kill him."

"Stiles," Allison spoke like she was talking to a child, like he didn't fully understand everything that was happening. "You can't keep protecting him! He's a killer. A monster!"

Stiles bristled, his anger boiling just beneath his skin, heating him like a fire from within. "I told you before," he spoke calmly, despite the anger, and he saw Peter look at him, knew the Alpha wolf was trying to tell him to run. "Enough is enough. That I wouldn't let you hurt him anymore. Did you think I was kidding?"

"Stiles, he's not like us. He's...He's not human."

"Neither is your boyfriend."

Allison inhaled sharply at the mention of Scott but before she could say anything about him being different Stiles pressed on.

"If you kill Peter, now or ever, I will make it my life's mission to see that you and Scott are never together. I'll do everything, anything, to keep you apart. To make you suffer."

"You can't do that."

"If you take my world away," Stiles said slowly, making certain his meaning was very clear. "I'll take yours."

Allison made a low sound and turned to look at Peter again. Stiles saw the determination on her face, knew she didn't believe him, and when she drew the arrow back, the bowstring going taut, Stiles knew he had no choice. The gunshot rang out and Allison's bow splintered, the arrow falling harmlessly to the ground of her feet. She whirled around, looking at Stiles with wide eyes for a moment, but without a word her face hardened, a mask slipping over her features, and she pulled a knife from her belt.

When she turned, going for Peter with the blade, Stiles reacted on instinct. The gun fell, forgotten, from his hand, and he leapt forward, tackling Allison to the ground.

They rolled through the leaves, struggling against each other, and while Allison had training on her side, Stiles' anger gave him a power he normally did not posses. He also had been training with werewolves, learning to fight against something far stronger than himself so he had no problem hitting what he knew were weak points in both werewolves and humans.

Allison yelled when he struck her as hard as he could in the ribs, in return her fist connected with his jaw.

Their scuffle continued until Stiles was unexpectedly pulled up and back, but he tried to fight off whoever had grabbed him, tried to get free so that he could defend Peter from Allison. He managed to get an elbow into the ribs of the person holding him, earning a low grunt before a growl reverberated through his back.

"Easy, Stiles, easy." Boyd's voice in his ear, calm and deep, had him stilling, not relaxing, he was too keyed up for that, but he stop fighting.

Looking around he found Chris Argent and Derek had arrived, and Chris had the same look on his face as he'd had the night Stiles had told him the truth about Kate and the Hale House Fire. The hunters who'd been following Allison all lowered their weapons, looking down and away from Chris like wolves did for their Alpha. It was obvious then that Chris had had no part in Allison's hunt.

"Dad..." Allison pushed herself up to her feet but she fell silent when Chris shot her a cold glare.

"I told you, all of you," Chris said as he looked from his daughter to the hunters who had followed her lead. "To leave the Hale Pack alone. That they were not the enemy. And because you chose not to listen you nearly started a war between us. We do not have the man power or resources to fight the Alpha Pack and the Hale Pack. Especially when the Hale Pack has been asissting us in our fight against the Alphas."

Chris looked at Allison again. "I told you to leave Peter Hale alone. That his actions against Kate were more than justified."

"He murdered her!" Allison took a step forward, eyes flashing with her own anger and hurt. "He ripped her throat out right in front of me!"

"A quick death," Stiles shouted, once again struggling against Boyd's hold, wanting nothing more than to attack Allison again, maybe give her a bruise to match the one already forming on her cheek. "She burned his family alive! Burned! Do you have any idea how horrific and painful it is to die that way?! Do you?!"

Allison shot him a look, one that just added to his fury, but before he could say any more a calm voice sound.

"Genim, enough."

Stiles instantly looked at Peter, who was on his feet, arrows pulled from his body. With a soft sound the teen found himself released from Boyd's grasp and he raced to Peter's side, instinct made him careful when he checked the wounds. Or rather where the wounds at been. Peter took hold of his hand, squeezing gently and examining the scrapped knuckles before looking at Allison.

"This is twice now that your actions have endangered my mate," the Alpha wolf spoke calmly, but his eyes glowed red. "Twice that I've allowed myself to be taken down so that he might be spared, might be shown compassion and mercy. There will not be a third."

"Your mate..." Allison looked confused and looked to her father for guidance, Chris merely looked at Scott.

"It's like how I feel for you," Scott said with a shrug, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'd die for you, Allison, just like Peter would for Stiles. Like Boyd would for Erica. It's part of who we are."

"But..." Allison shook her head but before she could find the words Scott continued speaking.

"In a pack, mates are sacred. They're more than just someone we care about. They're the other half of us. They make us whole. It's love and happiness and contentment that we otherwise don't have. Our mates are everything to us."

Allison looked at Scott, eyes wide and though Stiles saw the understanding dawning, he wasn't about to let her off the hook. She'd tried twice now to kill Peter, would probably try again if she ever thought she was justified. She wasn't getting off his shit-list quite any time soon. No matter what Scott or anyone else said.

"I...I didn't know..." She said softly, looking from Scott to Peter and Stiles. "I just...I..."

"I don't care." Stiles spoke firmly, ignoring the almost pleading look Scott sent his way.

"Stiles...please..." Allison turned her gaze, her apologetic, pleading gaze, onto him but it didn't work. He wasn't Scott. She couldn't bat her eyelashes at him and get away with everything.

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say."

He shook his hand, lacing his fingers with Peter's, and wanting nothing more than to take the Alpha wolf back to the Hale House and check him over. Logically he knew that Peter was fine, that his werewolf healing had already taken care of the wounds, but he wouldn't be able to relax until he knew for certain that Peter was okay. Peter and the others must have been able to tell how he felt because Derek told Boyd and Erica to accompany Peter and Stiles home, because he had to discuss some things with Chris and his hunters.

The walk was quiet, nothing but the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping. Stiles held Peter's hand, thumb rubbing small circles over the back of the Alpha wolf's hand. More to reassure himself that everything was alright, that everything was still fine, than anything else really. He felt Peter give his hand a squeeze before he was pulled closer, tucked protectively against the Alpha wolf's side.

Peter's head dipped down a bit and he whispered in Stiles' ear, just three little words that made Stiles smile and look up at the Alpha wolf before whispering the words in return.


	23. Red

Peter was straightening up the living room of the Hale House, picking things up and mumbling about disorganised and untidy pups, when he picked up a hoodie. There was nothing special about the simple, zip-up hoodie. It had no exaggerated designs and was a pretty shade of red, not overly bright or dull but a pleasant medium. And yet Peter found himself quite interested in it. Scenting the fabric revealed it to be one of Stiles'. It took a moment but he did remember seeing it before, and not when Stiles was wearing it.

A smile spread across his face as remembered the night in the woods, the night he'd turned Scott. He'd been called by the scent on the hoodie, the scent that even now called to his wolf. If things had been just a little bit different then it would have Stiles who'd have been turned. It would have Stiles answering his call. Stiles as his Beta. If that had been the case things might have gone differently.

Though truthfully Peter couldn't say he was disappointed with how things had worked out, even if he still thought Stiles would make an amazing wolf, the teen was still brilliant and more than the Alpha wolf could have ever hoped for.

Still smiling, Peter continued with his task of straightening up the mess the young wolves had made, he kept the hoodie with him, thinking of an interesting way to return it to its rightful owner.

_oOoOoOo_

Stiles was grumbling as he stumbled through the front door of the Hale House, kicking off his snow covered shoes. He hated winter sometimes. Really, he lived in California for crying out loud. People did not think of snow when they thought about California. But Beacon Hills just had to be far enough north that it got snow. And this year it got more than its fair share. The most the county had seen in thirty years apparently.

Still grumbling he made his way through the house and to the kitchen, wanting a mug of hot chocolate before the pack meeting got underway. As he pushed through the swinging door, which Derek was genius for having put in really, he wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him.

Standing at the counter, making hot chocolate already, was Peter. Which wasn't really unusual, the elder Alpha wolf lived at the house after all. No, what was unusual was that Peter wasn't dressed all in dark colors. The Alpha wolf's jeans were pale, faded and had a few holes scattered about the legs so they were obviously something Peter had owned for a while. And the hoodie, something Stiles had never seen Peter wear before, was red and very familiar to the teen.

Blinking in slight confusion, why on earth was Peter wearing his hoodie, Stiles slowly crossed the kitchen, studying the way the hoodie, which had always been a bit loose on his lean frame, was pulled snuggly over Peter's torso, showing off the lean, yet powerful, muscles that the Alpha wolf's clothing and attitude usually drew attention away from. Stiles couldn't help but lick his suddenly dry lips, looking Peter up and down as he stepped up behind the Alpha wolf. He heard Peter rumble, an acknowledgement of his presence maybe, but he ignored it in favour of reaching up and sliding his hands beneath the hoodie, a low sound passing his lips as his hands brushed over bare skin.

Peter shivered a bit, glancing over his shoulder as Stiles' hands slid from his back, around his sides to splay widely over his stomach.

"Your hands are cold," the Alpha wolf said calmly, though Stiles could see a bit of red bleeding into the blue of his irises.

"So long as we're pointing out the obvious," Stiles replied while tilting his head to one side. "You're wearing my hoodie."

"Hmm." Peter glanced down at said article of clothing, as though only now realizing he was in fact wearing it, a small grin tugging at his lips. "So I am."

"Looks good on you."

Stiles couldn't help but rub his hands over the flat, toned expanse of Peter's abdomen, fingers rubbing teasing circles and making Peter rumble again. The Alpha wolf's grin became a smirk, one that Stiles immediately recognized. It had heat coiling in his stomach and blood rushing south quickly. He saw the desire in Peter's eyes ratchet up a notch and knew that the Alpha wolf had heard his increased heartbeat and was scenting his desire as it wafted through the air.

"I think you'd look better _on_ me," Peter said with a growl of desire in his voice, knowing Stiles would get his exact meaning, and couldn't help but grin when the flush on the teen's face deepened.

Before either could say or do anything more one of the kitchen doors opened and Lydia poked her head in.

"I was told, by several members of the pack, that you two can, and I quote, play kissy-face later." She tossed her hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. "We've a meeting to get out of the way. Now move your asses or I'll haul you into the living room by your ears."

She disappeared back through the door and Peter couldn't help but chuckle as Stiles huffed, pulling his hands from beneath the hoodie. "Cock blockers," the teen grumbled even when Peter pushed a mug of hot chocolate into his hands. "Every single one of them."

Peter laughed as he gently pushed Stiles towards the door leading to the living room. As they entered the room, Stiles glanced at Peter, sipping his hot chocolate before going to take his customary seat on the couch next to Lydia. Watching Peter sit in his chair, seeing the fabric of the hoodie stretch, Stiles couldn't keep the grin off his face. This pack meeting had better go real quick, he had plans now that involved a certain Alpha wolf and that red hoodie.


	24. Outside

Stiles shook his head, laughing lightly, as he watched Peter race around the clearing. Leaves flew as the Alpha wolf moved, rolling occasionally, and Stiles thought that he looked like an oversized puppy. Even as a wolf, a wolf that was twice the size of a wild animal, the image Peter presented at the moment was cute and playful. Stiles laughed even more when Peter rolled again, ending up on his back, feet pawing at the air, tongue lolling out of his mouth in a silly canine grin. If not for those glowing red eyes Stiles could easily had believed he was just watching a very big dog.

When Peter looks over at him, Stiles kept right on chuckling. Shaking his head at the way the Alpha wolf seemed to be telling him without words to come play. "I am not rolling around in the leaves," Stiles said as firmly as he could while still chuckling about Peter's behaviour. "Not happening."

Peter made a low sound, not quite a whine but almost and Stiles shook his head again.

"Nope." The teen looked around for some place to sit and missing the fact that Peter had rolled onto his feet and was slowly stalking towards him. "I am not...GAH!"

Peter was careful when he tackled Stiles, taking the teen to the ground with more surprise than actual strength. Stiles stopped laughing when Peter stood over him, hands curling around the Alpha's wolf front legs. "So not funny," he said with a slight huff.

Peter rumbled and lowered his head, rubbing his muzzle over Stiles' chest, making the teen squirm a bit. "Peter...what..."

Stiles fell silent when Peter shifted, the wolf sliding away to reveal the human beneath, the very naked human. For a moment it feels like his brain has short circuited or something. He blinks, almost dazedly, glancing briefly down, before he felt his cheeks heat up, heartbeat pounding in his own ears and he quickly looked at Peter's face, finding the Alpha wolf smirking in a way that meant he was plotting something.

"You're naked," Stiles finally managed to say, licking his suddenly dry lips, knowing the whole time that Peter could easily smell his desire, hear it in the frantic beating of his heart. "Very naked."

"Hmm," Peter rumbled again as he settled himself between Stiles' legs, glancing briefly down as though he'd only now realized the fact that he wasn't wearing clothes. "So I am. Maybe you should join me. It wouldn't be so...awkward then."

Stiles opened his mouth, ready to tell Peter there was no way in hell he was getting naked in the middle of the woods where anyone, including the members of their Pack, could stumble upon them, but the words quickly turned into a soft whine when Peter chose that exact moment to push his t-shirt up, fingers sliding easily, teasingly, over his skin. Another whine tore free of his throat when the Alpha wolf's head dipped, tongue flicking lazily over one nipple before giving its mate the same treatment.

Stiles' back arched and he whimpered loudly, fingers tangling in Peter's hair, he writhed beneath the Alpha wolf as his thoughts of being caught naked, in the woods, quickly vanished. "Peter...please..." His words were choked off when Peter unexpectedly lifted his head, capturing Stiles' lips in a dominating kiss.

Time seemed to shift then, because one minute Stiles could clearly remember being clothed but the next he was as naked as Peter, wet, warm kisses being dropped over his chest as a low rumble filled the air, Peter's eyes flashing red momentarily before he once again kissed Stiles. Their tongues tangled as Stiles lifted his hips, pressing upwards so that his hardening cock slid along Peter's. It caused Peter to groan loudly, hips rocking, their combined pre-come providing just enough lubrication for them their cocks to glide together in a way that had Stiles breaking the kiss, head thrown back and a groan passing his lips.

Peter growled above him, sucking and kissing a ring of bruises into the skin of Stiles' neck, making the teen squirm and buck beneath him. Still growling, he gripped Stiles' hips, rising up enough so that he could flip Stiles over, quickly pulling the teen onto his hands and knee, ignoring the questioning look Stiles gave him over one pale shoulder. Instead he began kissing and licking his way down Stiles' spine, loving the breathy and desperate noises Stiles was making.

Reaching Stiles' ass the Alpha wolf nipped lightly at one cheek, making Stiles yelp in surprised pleasure, and he quickly gave the other cheek a nip, smirking when Stiles' body jerked reflexively. Still smirking he reached out and spread Stiles' cheeks, exposing the teen's fluttering hole. Leaning down he licked a strip from Stiles' balls, up over his hole, making him squirm and gasp, hips pushing back instinctively. A low rumble tore from the Alpha wolf's chest as he began licking around the rim, dipping in lightly before pulling back just enough to lap over the quivering muscle, dropping a feather light kiss before once more dipping in.

Stiles gasped loudly, hips thrusting back to meet Peter's tongue, wanting more but unable to find the words to tell Peter that. The Alpha wolf must have gotten the message however because a moment later and Peter was slowly, carefully, working a finger into his ass alongside that wickedly amazing tongue. The dual sensations, the warm, wetness and firm, solid stretching made him moan and his hips began rocking, pushing back to meet each inward push of Peter's finger. 

Soon a second finger was added and Stiles all but mewled as he was stretched, those sinful fingers brushing his prostate making him cry out, all the while Peter continued licking and sucking, seeming to be intent on driving Stiles crazy with insane with need. When the third finger was added, further stretching him, Stiles cried out hoarsely, back bowing and ass pushing higher into the air.

"Peter...please...I need...please...fuck please..."

Peter's head lifted, lips glistening with saliva, and he smirked wickedly, still working Stiles with his fingers. "What, Stiles, hmm? What does my gorgeous little mate need?"

Stiles had no idea how Peter managed to sound so calm and when the fingers in his ass brushed his prostate again, making his cock leak a rather copious amount of pre-come he really couldn't bring himself to care, he just cried out, all but fucking himself on Peter's fingers while he gasped "You...please...need you to...to fuck me...please...please..."

Peter rumbled loudly, the sound was pure desire and it made Stiles squirm. "I want to take you as an Alpha," he growled, leaning over the teen's back, nipping lightly at the skin just behind Stiles' ear. "Can I?"

Stiles whimpered as Peter twisted his fingers, he didn't really understand what Peter meant, didn't care truthfully, he'd agree to just about anything if it meant Peter would hurry up and fuck him already. "Yes," he panted, rocking back against the Alpha's wolf's fingers again. "Yes...anything...just please...please..."

Stiles whined when Peter pulled his fingers from him, leaving behind an empty ache that Stiles desperately wanted the Alpha wolf to fill. He barely heard Peter spitting into his hand before the blunt head of the Alpha wolf's cock was pressing against his hole, slicked with pre-come and saliva. He whined again as Peter slowly slid into him. The stretch and burn greater than it had been with the Alpha wolf's fingers, saliva wasn't really the best lube, but Stiles mewled regardless, wanting nothing more than to push back, to impale himself on Peter's length but the Alpha wolf held his hips still.

Peter kept pushing forward, slowly, until he was buried up to the hilt. Stiles whimpered at the feeling of being completely full and stretched, hips wiggling just a little bit, trying to entice the Alpha wolf into moving. Peter rumbled as he leaned over Stiles back, nipping at the teen's shoulders, listening to the soft, throaty sounds Stiles made before he began to move, slowly pulling out before pushing back in.

Stiles groaned at the slow pace Peter set, as good as it felt it wasn't quite what he wanted. No, he wanted hard and fast. He wanted to be able to still feel Peter in him tomorrow. "Peter..." He panted, looking over his shoulder at Peter, gasping lewdly when he saw those blazing red eyes. "Peter...please...please fuck me...hard...fast...please..."

Peter growled loudly, dropping himself over Stiles back, teeth gripping the back of the teen's neck and he snapped his hips forward, causing Stiles to cry out as his cock slid over the teen's prostate. He could smell the pre-come leaking from Stiles' cock and it caused his own desire to spike. He growled again and gave fully into said desire, instinct driving him onward.

Stiles was moaning, gasping and crying out as Peter finally began fucking him the way he wanted. He pushed back to meet every forward thrust of the Alpha wolf's hips, crying out for more whenever Peter's cock brushed his prostate, sending white hot spark of pleasure through his body. He was so far gone he almost didn't register the feel of Peter's cock swelling or the fur lightly brushing over his body.

He blinked.

Fur?

Glancing over his shoulder Stiles let out a sound of surprise. Peter had shifted into what Stiles consider the true Alpha form. The one he'd first ever seen Peter as. Glowing red eyes burned from the lupine face and a deep rumble from the Alpha had him shivering. He'd never given a thought to having sex with Peter all wolfed out before, he thought it bordered a little too close to bestiality for his taste, but now he was seriously wondering why he'd never thought about them doing this before. It felt absolutely incredible! Despite his increased size and strength, Peter was being very careful not to hurt him, each thrust calculated and meant to drive Stiles crazy with desire.

Stiles cried out when the Alpha wolf suddenly sat back on his haunches, the arm he'd previous wrapped around Stiles' torso pulling him along until he was being held up by Peter's strength, the Alpha wolf growling deeply in pleasure as his hips continued to snap up, the new angle causing his cock to slide deeper, harder, into the teen's body, making Stiles whine loudly, trying to push down to meet each thrust.

Peter drove deep into Stiles' tight channel in a steady rhythm, though each thrust was deeper and harder than the last. The sound of flesh smacking flesh, moans and whimpers, interspersed with grunts and groans of ecstasy echoed wildly throughout the clearing and just when Stiles thought he couldn't take anymore Peter carefully reached down, mindful of his claws, and began stroking Stiles' cock, pumping it in time to his thrusts. The teen all but screamed in ecstasy as his hips bucked, body writhing back against Peter's larger form, he grabbed hold of the arm Peter still had wrapped around him, unable to do anything but hang on for the ride now.

The Alpha wolf rumbled loudly, the sound echoing through the air, being mindful now not only of his claws but his teeth, which still held the back of Stiles' neck. The feeling of Stiles' walls squeezing him, stroking him never got old, always so damn tight around his cock. His hips continued to snap upwards, cock brushing Stiles' prostate each time, his thumb brushing over the head of Stiles' cock, the combined sensations wringing such beautiful noises from his equally beautiful mate.

A dozen or so more hard thrusts across Stiles' prostate was all it took, his body buzzing full of energy, the hand stroking his cock never relenting, balls drawn up tight to his body, and he threw his head back against Peter's shoulder, missing when the Alpha wolf's teeth carefully released his neck, a scream of pure pleasure tearing from his throat as his orgasm tore through him. His seed spilling down over Peter's hand, which worked him through the white hot pleasure, making him whimper and whine.

Stiles' body clenched around him, tighter and hotter until it succeeded in wrenching Peter's from his body as well, the Alpha wolf threw his head back, hips snapping forward once more, causing his knot to push into his mate, and he roared as he filled Stiles' ass with his release, still holding the teen upright as their bodies shook together.

As the afterglow began to fade, Peter carefully lowered Stiles to the ground, positioning them so he was wrapped around his mate. His knot still tying them together. He listened to Stiles' rapid breathing, the pounding of his heart, and rumbled contently, lifting his hand, which was still sticky with Stiles' release, and licked it clean, the taste was uniquely that of his mate. He rumbled again and Stiles squirmed slightly.

"Is that..." Stiles panted lightly, eyelids getting a tad heavy as his body began demanding he nap after such an amazing round of sex. "Is that what you...meant...by _taking me...like...like an Alpha?_ "

Peter rumbled, licking at Stiles' neck, arms tightening around the teen.

Stiles chuckled softly, feeling Peter's knot twitch slightly, he was so asking about _that_ later. Especially considering that it had never happened before. But for now he was more than happy to just close his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep. Outside in the middle of the woods or not, he knew there was no where safer than Peter's arms.


	25. Cold

"It's snowing again."

Stiles glanced up at Scott's declaration, which wasn't really news considering it had been snowing off and on all day. He would have normally shook it off and gone on with his research but Derek was suddenly up, looking out the window and a concerned look crossed the young Alpha wolf's face.

"You should call your mom," Derek said to Scott before looking at Stiles. "And you should call your dad. Neither of you are going out in that."

Stiles looked at Peter, who was now looking out the window, frowning just like Derek was. Apparently it was pretty bad out there. Without a word he quickly dug his phone from his pocket and sent a quick text to his dad, explaining that crappy weather and bad road conditions were going to keep him out at the Hale House for the night. The responding text told him that his dad thought it was a good idea. Tucking his phone away again he settled back down and continued with the research he'd been working on.

He got through another three pages of the book he was reading before the lights suddenly went out, plunging the living room into total blackness. He went completely still even as he heard cursing from the kitchen. He blinked, trying to see through the darkness, only to jump and let out a startled sound when a hand touched his back. "Shh," Peter whispered in his ear and he relaxed as he felt the Alpha wolf settle next to him. "Derek's going to light a fire while Boyd and Scott find the camping lanterns."

"Stupid human eyes," Stiles muttered as he attempted to see Peter's face despite the dark. "Can't see anything and...HEY!"

Stiles squirmed as Peter's hands unexpectedly slipped beneath his t-shirt, cool fingers spreading over his skin. "Not funny," he complained, still squirming as one of Peter's hands slid up his back.

Before Peter could retort, Derek managed to get the fire going, casting the living room in a soft, flickering light. The younger Alpha wolf glanced at them and shook his head. "Peter, stop molesting Stiles," Derek grouched as Boyd and Scott returned with the lanterns.

"I'd hardly call it molesting," Peter rumbled as he left his hand right where it was. "He's my mate."

"He's also barely seventeen," Derek fired back as Boyd and Scott staggered the lanterns around the living room, lighting them as they went.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," Stiles grouched as he pulled away from Peter, thankful that he could now see. He closed the book he'd been reading and got to his feet, carefully making his way over to the bookshelf to put it back in its spot.

By the time he made it back to his spot on the floor, the rest of the Pack had come into the living room. Erica looked a bit annoyed as she dropped down next to Boyd on the couch. Isaac, who'd been in the kitchen, was grumbling about his popcorn not being done and stupid power outages. Jackson and Lydia had brought several blankets down from the upstairs linen closest, and Stiles only knew that because he'd helped Lydia pick those particular blankets out. As he dropped down onto the floor Lydia tossed him a blanket.

"Better to all sleep in one room," she explained as she handed blankets to Erica and Boyd, while Jackson threw some to Scott, Isaac and Derek. "That way if something happens we know where we all are."

"You serious think something is going to happen," Scott asked as he shook out his blanket.

"One cannot be too careful," Lydia replied with a bit of bite behind her words. She settled down next to Jackson, spreading her own blanket over her.

Derek gave an agreeing nod before asking Isaac to help him get some more wood for the fire. Stiles watched the two leave the room before he grabbed a pillow from the couch, settling down with the blanket draped over him. He wasn't surprised when Peter stretched out next to him, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him in close. He listened as the Alpha wolf spoke with Lydia about something to do with the Argent Bestiary, which they were still working to fully translate it. After a while his eyelids drooped and it wasn't long before he dozed off completely.

_oOoOoOo_

Stiles woke shivering and a bit confused as to where he was. Lifting his head and looking around he slowly remembered that he'd gotten stuck at the Hale House because of the weather and that it was cold because the power had gone out and the fire was dwindled down so that only the faint glow of embers could be seen. With a low grumble he carefully extracted himself from Peter's hold, crawling over to toss a couple of blocks of wood into the fire, poking it with the fireplace poker until it was burning again. With a slow, deep breath, he warmed his hands for a moment before crawling back to his place, yanking his blanket around his body to stay warm.

He had just started to doze off when something brushed against his back.

Jerking a bit he started to turn when a sleepy voice reached his ear.

"Just me," Erica whispered as she cuddled up to him. "Is cold."

He briefly wondered why she wasn't cuddling with Boyd if she was so cold but at that exact moment Boyd, who had been across the room on the sofa, settled down behind Erica, draping their blankets over them as he curled around her. The quiet teen gave Stiles a sleepy smile before tucking his face into Erica's hair. The combined heat of the wolves surrounding him warmed Stiles more than the fire and blankets. Stiles couldn't help but smile himself and settling down, he wasn't surprised when Peter, even in his sleep, wrapped strong arms around him and cuddled closer.

_oOoOoOo_

Sheriff Stilinski showed up at the Hale House around ten in the morning, using one of the station's plough trucks to clear the drive leading to the place. Standing on the porch he knocked loudly, figuring everyone was most likely sleeping on the second or even third floors. When no one answered he knocked again, testing the doorknob, surprised to find the door unlocked. He'd be having a talk with Derek and Peter about that. He didn't care if the house was practically in the middle of nowhere.

Opening the door he stepped into the house, looking around at the grandness of the entryway. The Hales had certainly spared no expense in renovating the place that was for sure. With a shake of his head he headed towards what he thought might be the living room. Stepping into the expansive room, ready to speak, he came to a complete stop at the sight before him.

The group of people, mostly teenagers, sleeping on the floor made the Sheriff think of the way the German Shepherds the station kept. One great big dog pile even though no one was really on top of one another.

The thing that really got to him was the way Stiles seemed to be in the middle of the group. Surrounded to either side by Peter Hale and Erica Reyes. His son was tucked, almost protectively, against Peter's chest, the man's arms wrapped around Stiles, while Erica had an arm wrapped around Stiles, tucked between his and Peter's bodies, her head tucked against the back of Stiles' shoulder. Behind Erica, curled around her, was Vernon Boyd. His massive bulk practically shielding her from sight. Boyd's arm was draped over Erica's side, his hand, however, was resting on Stiles' hip.

Behind Peter was Lydia Martin, pressed up against the man's back, her hand fisted in the fabric of his shirt all while her boyfriend, Jackson Whittemore, was lying behind her, his hand curled around her hip and his face pressed into the slope of her neck.

The only ones missing were...his gaze shifted just a bit and he spotted the three he hadn't noticed before. Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey and Scott McCall were curled together with Derek's head resting on Stiles' leg, one arm bent down to rest over Isaac's chest. Isaac was lying with his head pillowed on Derek's stomach while Scott mirrored the position with his head resting on Isaac's.

Nothing about the scene before the Sheriff particularly spoke of normal but he figured that not much in Beacon Hills was really what one would call normal anyways. He shook his head and started to step back out of the room, thinking he'd leave a note saying he'd been by and ploughed the driveway, only to stop when Stiles' head lifted slowly, eyes blinking sleepily.

"Dad?" Stiles looked at him for a moment before looking around at the pile of people surrounding him. He blinked for a moment before a sort of dopey grin crossed his face. He looked back at his father and shrugged as best he could given his current position. "Was cold I guess."

The Sheriff couldn't help but laugh.


	26. Voice

Peter silently slipped through Stiles' bedroom window, already knowing that the teen was home and that the Sheriff was working the late shift. Standing in the room he looked around, it was neater than it normally was, meaning the good Sheriff had threatened Stiles' driving privileges if it wasn't tidied up. He smirked as spotted a framed photograph on the desk. He picked it up and couldn't help but chuckle softly. It was the Pack. All gathered on the porch of the newly renovated Hale House, the day said renovations were finally finished. Stiles had insisted they take a photo together, saying it was important to have ways to remember good days like that.

As he looked at the smiling faces Peter couldn't help but think that Stiles had had a point. Remembering the good days was important.

Returning the frame to the desk he turned, listening to figure out where in the house Stiles was. His smile widened as he determined his mate was in the kitchen. Slipping silently from the room he made his way downstairs, thinking to surprise Stiles, and he had just reached the kitchen doorway, when Stiles, who was cooking mac-and-cheese and still unaware of the Alpha wolf's presence, suddenly began singing.

_Dark the stars and dark the moon_  
Hush the night and the morning gloom  
Tell the horses and beat on your drum  
Gone their master, gone their son 

_Dark the oceans and dark the sky_  
Hush the whales and the ocean tide  
Tell the soldiers and beat on your drum  
Gone their master, gone their son 

Despite the somewhat sombre feel of the song, Peter found himself deeply moved by the beauty of his mate's voice. The way Stiles usually rambled, especially when nervous, did not lend to the image of someone capable of singing. But his voice, sweet and low, spoke of someone who understood music. The Alpha wolf leaned against the doorframe, listening as Stiles continued singing, fingers tapping out a slow and steady beat against the countertop.

_Dark to light and light to dark_  
Three black carriage three white carts  
What brings us together is what pulls us apart  
Gone our brother, gone our heart 

_Hush the whales and the ocean tide_  
Tell the soldiers and beat on your drum  
Gone their master, gone their son 

When Stiles stopped singing, still softly humming the tune, Peter moved, crossing the kitchen and wrapping his arms around Stiles, not surprised at all when the teen jerked in surprise, a soft sound fall from his lips even as his heartbeat ratcheted up a notch or two. The moment Stiles realized who had just ambushed him he grunted and smacked Peter's arm. "You just about took ten years off my life, you idiot!" He shook his head, shooting the Alpha wolf a glare over his shoulder. "You couldn't ring the damn doorbell like a normal person?"

Peter chuckled, nuzzling against Stiles' neck, which made the teen whimper lightly, head tilting to the side to give him more room. "It's just so fun to keep you guessing," he teased, nipping lightly at the pale skin of his mate's neck.

"Uh huh," Stiles grumbled. "I personally think you're trying to scare me half to death so you can play the dashing hero and bring me back."

Peter made a low sound. "I've already done that." He nuzzled Stiles' neck, pushing away memories of the day that Stiles had nearly drowned. "And while I have no desire to go through that again."

Stiles gave Peter's arm a squeeze, knowing that the Alpha wolf had really been terrified of losing him that night. "On a happier subject," the teen said quickly, not wanting to dwell on bad memories. "What brought you over? Not that I'm not thrilled that you're here, but you normally text first."

"Hmm, just wanted to see you and I remembered you saying that your father was working tonight."

Stiles couldn't help but snort. "Right and you figured that we could safely fool around," he said lightly, tone teasing more than anything. "No annoying Pack members or parent to cock block us."

Peter chuckled lightly, nuzzling against Stiles' neck again. "I will admit the thought had occurred to me," he said as Stiles reached out and turned off the burner of the oven. "Though now I think there's something I'd like even more."

Stiles made a soft, questioning sound, leaning back against the Alpha wolf. "What's that?"

"I'd like you to sing for me."

Stiles stiffened for a moment and Peter worried that he'd crossed some sort of line with his young mate but then Stiles was relaxing again, turning his head to look at the Alpha wolf.

"You heard me, huh?"

Peter gave a small nod. "I did. You have a beautiful voice. I'd love nothing more than to hear it again."

Stiles studied him for a minute, clearly turning over the pros and cons of this, before a small, somewhat shy, smile graced his face. "Anything particular you want to hear or do you just want me to sing?"

Peter nuzzled his neck again and Stiles made a low, approving sound. "Whatever my mate wishes. I just want to listen."

Stiles' smile grew a little and he drew a deep breath before he started singing softly.

_I'm standing on the bridge, I'm waiting in the dark_  
I thought that you'd be here by now  
There's nothing but the rain, no footsteps on the ground  
I'm listening but there's no sound 

_Isn't anyone trying to find me?  
Won't somebody come take me home?_

_It's a damn cold night, trying to figure out this life_  
Won't you take me the hand, take me somewhere new  
I don't know who you are but I'm with you, I'm with you 

Peter smiled against Stiles' neck, kissing the pale skin softly, swaying to the beautiful sound of his mate's voice. He looked up at the teen's face, seeing adoration shining in those beautiful brown eyes. He hugged Stiles a little tighter as his mate reached the song's final chorus.

_It's a damn cold night, trying to figure out this life_  
Won't you take me by the hand, take me somewhere new  
I don't know who you are but I'm with you, I'm with you 

_Take me by the hand, take me somewhere new  
I don't know who you are but I'm with you, I'm with you_

When Stiles was finished, his cheeks flushed every so slightly, Peter couldn't resist stealing a quick kiss, loving the way Stiles turned, arms wrapping around his shoulders, hands running over his back. Breaking apart only because of the need to breathe, Stiles grinned, reaching up to cup Peter's cheek.

"If I'd known singing would have this effect on you I'd have done it a long time ago," the teen teased, still grinning.

Peter rumbled loudly, easily lifting Stiles off his feet and tossing him over his shoulder. Stiles squeaked at first, scrambled to find a grip in the back of Peter's jacket before laughing as the Alpha wolf carried him from the kitchen and up to his bedroom all the while thinking how much fun it would be now, knowing how much his singing _appealed_ to Peter.


	27. Letters

Stiles was cleaning out the bedroom closet, attempting to make room for the winter clothes, when an old shoebox promptly slid from its place on the shelf and took him in the back of the head. Wincing and jerking back, he looked down at the now open box as he rubbed the back of his head. He frowned when he found the contents of the box strewn over the floor. Reaching out he picked up the folded piece of paper. Wondering what it was and why it was so important that Peter had kept it for what obviously had been quite a while given the age of the paper.

Unfolding the paper he realized it was a letter.

He started to fold it back up, not wanting to intrude on his mate's privacy, but stopped when he spotted his name at the top of the page.

Frowning slightly he let curiosity get the better of him and began reading.

_Genim,_

_My darling mate, from the day I met you, to the day you became the one to save me from myself, from then until now I have loved you. I cannot imagine a life without you. Despite the distance, no matter how temporary, between us I need you to know that as long as I live my heart will always belong to you. No matter what comes our way._

_Without you life just doesn't seem to work. I need you, my mate. I need you like the day needs the dawn. Like the ocean tides need the moon. And I miss you, my mate. I miss you like the sun misses the flowers during the bitter cold depths of winter._

_But I have hope._

_Hope that when we finally see each other again our absence from one another will have only made our love grow stronger. Hope that the ache of loneliness I feel now that you've gone from my side will abate the moment I once again get to hold you and look into your beautiful face while I tell you how much I love you._

_And I do, mate, I love you. I love you more than I will ever be able to express._

_Until we are together again,  
Peter_

When he finished he was stunned. He ended up rereading the letter three times before he reached for another and then another and then another. By the time he was finished there were tears prickling his eyes and his hands were shaking slightly. He looked at the letters scattered around him, some were pages long and others were just a few words. He didn't understand why Peter had never given them him.

He was still trying to figure that out when Peter walked into the room, carrying a box from the storage room that had winter clothes in it, talking as he set said box on the floor. "Lydia asked me to remind you that you're supposed to go shopping with her for..." The Alpha wolf stopped speaking suddenly, no doubt having heard the rapid beat of Stiles' heart. "Stiles? What's wrong?"

Stiles looked up at his mate, at the man who meant everything to him, and he held up the letter he still had clutched in his hand. "I found these." He swallowed around the lump in his throat, watching Peter's eyes widen in surprise. "You...You wrote me letters and...and never gave them to me...why?"

Peter crossed the room, sitting next to Stiles and pulling his mate into his arms, holding him close while he pressed a kiss to Stiles' temple. "While you were in college I had a...a rather difficult time," the Alpha wolf said softly, giving Stiles a squeeze. "I wrote you a letter almost every day. I even planned on sending several of them but I...I ended up psyching myself out when I went to put them in the mail and...and so I just kept tucking them away."

"And...And after I came home?"

"I was afraid you'd think I'd gone soft."

Stiles turned, straddling Peter's waist as he looked the man in the eye, reaching up and cupping the Alpha wolf's face in his hands. "You listen to me, Psycho Wolf," he said firmly, ignoring the low sound Peter made at the old nickname that Stiles rarely used now a days. "I would never think you were soft. Never. I'd have thought you loved and missed me. That you were counting the days just like I was until we could be together again."

Peter made a soft sound, not quite a rumble but fairly close, and he leaned forward, capturing Stiles' lips in a kiss. Stiles whimpered against Peter's as the Alpha wolf stroked the soft skin in back of his ear and toyed with the short hairs at the base of his neck with one hand. Peter nibbled gently on Stiles' lower lip and his free hand curled almost possessively around the younger man's hip, fingers flexing against the skin and muscle there. When Stiles whimpered again, this time licking at Peter's lips, the Alpha wolf rumbled loudly, gently tumbling them to the floor, Stiles stretched out beneath him.

Breaking the kiss because the need for air became too much to bear, Peter panted, looking down at his mate, flushed and also panting softly, the Alpha wolf couldn't help but lean down and nuzzle at the pale flesh of Stiles' neck.

"Genim," Peter breathed the name like it was the most scared of prayers and Stiles reached up to toy with the Alpha wolf's dark curls, smiling softly. "My mate."

"Yours, Peter," Stiles replied as he cupped Peter's cheek. "Always."


	28. Promise

Stiles lay, tucked protectively against Peter's chest, thinking back on the newest near death experience he had gone through earlier in the night. His fingers lightly grazed the stitches in his left side. He was still surprised at how well Deaton had been able to tend to the wound, especially given that the man was a veterinarian. He was also getting sick and tired of being kidnapped and injured all because of his status as a member of a pack of werewolves.

Touching his stitches again, of which there were ten, he jumped in surprised when Peter unexpectedly caught his hand, pulling it away from the wound.

"What is it with young people playing with things best left alone," the Alpha wolf said softly, lifting Stiles' hand to brush soft kisses over the back of it.

"Been a long time since I had stitches." Stiles gave a small shrug, the muscles looser than usual due to the mix of antibiotics and painkillers Deaton had given him.

"If I have my way it will be a long time before you ever have them again."

Peter used his _I'm the Alpha_ voice and Stiles tipped his head back, looking at the Alpha wolf's face, seeing all the emotions filtering through those bright blue eyes. Emotions that were rarely seen by anyone but Stiles. Without a word he leaned up, brushing a soft kiss to Peter's lips, pulling back before the Alpha wolf could try and make it into something more.

"You shouldn't worry so much," Stiles said as he rubbed a hand over Peter's chest, trying to sooth the Alpha wolf. "I'm fine. I always seem to come out of dangerous situations fine. A little bruised and beat up maybe, but fine none the less."

Peter growled faintly. "Some day that won't be the case." Red was beginning to bleed the blue of his eyes. "That hunter could have killed you tonight. A few inches higher and the knife would have..."

"But it didn't," Stiles cut Peter off, not wanting the Alpha wolf to work himself up again. "And while I'll admit I was terrified the entire time I knew you wouldn't let me go without a fight."

"Stiles..."

Stiles quickly kissed Peter again, letting the kiss linger a little longer than this first this time. When he drew back he reached up, cupping Peter's cheek. "Before tonight I was actually thinking about something," he said softly, thumb rubbing gentle circles over the soft skin of Peter's cheek. "Something we could use as a last resort in case something...ever does happen."

Peter growled again, hugging Stiles closer, eyes going completely red. It was beyond obvious that the Alpha wolf did not like, and did not want to accept the fact, that something fatal could happen to Stiles. Peter tipped his head down, momentarily nuzzling Stiles neck more his own comfort than anything, before looking again at his mate's face. "What last resort?"

Stiles drew a slow, deep breath.

"The Bite."

Peter's head jerked back a bit in surprise and his eyes held equal measures of surprise and confusion. No doubt he was thinking of the night in the parking garage when he'd first offered the Bite and Stiles had said no. Of course he still claimed Stiles' had been lying, and if Stiles was honest Peter was right he had been, but the subject hadn't been raised since the dynamics of their relationship had changed.

"Even if we did that," Peter said after a few minutes of silence, choosing his words carefully. "There's still a chance...that it would kill you."

"If the outcome of the situation is death anyways I'd rather take the chance of the Bite then just giving up."

Peter remained silent for a long while and when Stiles looked in his eyes, he knew the Alpha wolf was having serious doubts about the suggestion. Drawing another deep breath he slid his hand from Peter's cheek to tangle his fingers in the Alpha wolf's hair, forcing him to focus on Stiles.

"I want you to promise me," Stiles said firmly, using the tone of his voice to tell Peter he was dead serious about this. "I want you to promise that if something happens to me, something that is going to beyond a shadow of a doubt kill me, that you'll give me the Bite."

Peter whined loudly, clearly not wanting to promise something that could kill Stiles regardless of the situation it was given in.

"Promise me, Peter."

After a moment of silence Peter finally nodded. "I promise."

Stiles gave a small nod of his own, leaning up to kiss the Alpha wolf, who kissed him back hungrily. Both prayed the promise would never have to be kept, but at the same time they both knew that there was always the chance.

_oOoOoOo_

Six months later found Stiles and Peter facing the situation they had both hoped would never happen.

A rogue hunter, someone Chris Argent had known years ago, had come to Beacon Hills to deal with what he called the _werewolf infestation_. The lunatic had even gone so far as to accuse Chris of betraying his heritage by letting the Hale Pack live. Chris had argued that the Code allowed leniency towards wolves who didn't kill or were an asset to the community in which they dwelled. According to Chris the Hale Pack fell into both categories.

The rogue hunter hadn't seen it that way and, after stalking the Pack for a while, decided to start picking them off one by one, starting with the one he assumed to be the weakest.

Stiles was really sick of being kidnapped by psychos.

He'd managed to get away from the rogue hunter, after the nut job had drug him into the woods, planning to execute him, but unfortunately hadn't gotten far before one of the shots the guy had fired at him grazed his leg just enough that running wasn't an option anymore. He was leaning against a tree, bent over enough to clutch at the wound, blood soaking his jeans, when the rogue hunter came slowly strolling up, as though he didn't have a care in the world.

Before the guy could lift his gun, however, Chris Argent and Stiles' father, who had no idea what was going on beyond Stiles being kidnapped, came running through the trees, both aiming their guns at the rogue hunter.

"Put the weapon down," the Sheriff snapped, his voice holding an icy tone that Stiles had never heard from his father before. "Put the weapon down now and back away."

The rogue hunter didn't even spare the Sheriff a glance, instead looking at Chris, his gun still pointed at Stiles, his decision unchanged even in the face of two armed men. "You should be the one doing this," the man said with a snarl in his voice. "You should have done it long ago!"

Chris slowly shook his head. "I don't murder innocent people."

"He's hardly innocent, Christopher." The rogue hunter glared at Stiles again. "He's a traitor to his own species! Befriending those monsters, being part of their pack. Having a relationship with one of them!"

"None of that matters," Chris said firmly and the look on his face reminded Stiles of the night he'd told the hunter of what his own sister had done to the Hale family. "I told you when you first arrived that acts of violence against the Hale Pack would not be tolerated. We live by the Code. _Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent._ "

" _We hunt those who hunt us,_ " Stiles whispered the words, remembering how Allison had explained the Code to him and Scott on afternoon.

The rogue hunter made a low, dismissive sound. "I am hunting those who hunt us," he snarled, shooting Chris a dark look. "How long do you think it will take before the Hale Pack turns on you? On the people of this town? How long before the Alpha decides this so call _innocent_ boy is better off as one of them instead of one of us? No. It's kinder to put him down now instead of waiting until it's too late."

The Sheriff took a small step forward. "I'm telling you for the last time," he said as he thumbed back the hammer of his gun. "Drop your weapon and step away."

Before the rogue hunter could say another, a loud, angry sounding, howl pierced the night air. Stiles knew that howl. Knew what, and who, was coming. Chris, who had been looking only at the rogue hunter, glanced quickly into the dark trees, the hunter knew that if he could stall for a little more time then nothing would happen to Stiles.

"You shouldn't have done any of this," Chris said as his gaze returned to the rogue hunter. "It's over, Thomas."

The rogue hunter, Thomas, smiled madly. "Not yet it's not."

Before Chris or the Sheriff could react the loud bark of a gunshot rang through the air. Chris shouted, forgetting about Thomas as he leapt forward, catching Stiles as he went down. The Sheriff let out an enraged sound, shooting three times at the rogue hunter, but missing because the man had moved the moment he'd shot Stiles.

Chris carefully lowered Stiles to the ground, cradling the boy even as he placed his hands over the wound, ignoring the sick feeling that settled into his stomach as he felt the hot, sticky blood seep between his fingers. "It's okay," he said as the Sheriff dropped next to Stiles, trying to keep his gun aimed at Thomas while checking his son. "It's okay, Stiles."

Thomas laughed and Chris tried to pretend that he didn't know the wound was fatal. Center mass of the body, a slow but effective bleed, even if they got to a car it wouldn't matter. Stiles was beyond any sort of medical care.

"Do you comfort all the animals we put down, Christopher?" Thomas' taunting laugh made Chris itch to kill the man. Fellow hunter or not, Thomas had just broken the Code, but Chris knew that it wasn't his place to kill Thomas.

"He's not an animal," Chris snarled as Stiles clutched his father's hand, whimpering in pain, tears rolling down his pale face. "He's a boy! An innocent child and you've killed him!"

"He signed his own death warrant the moment he threw his lot in with those monsters."

Chris glared at Thomas, about to tell the man that _he_ was the monster, just like his sister had become, but the low snapping of bushes drew his gaze behind Thomas. Through the dark he saw the glow of red and a smile crossed his face. He saw the confusion in Thomas' eyes.

"What's so amusing?" Thomas glared at Chris, hand flexing around his weapon, ignoring the way the Sheriff's finger slowly began tightening around the trigger of his own.

"Tell me, Thomas," Chris said as a large form emerged from the shadows behind Thomas, the Sheriff's eyes widening as he saw it. "Have you met Stiles' mate?"

"His mate..." Thomas started to turn, realizing the two men were not looking at him but behind him, only to have his words become screams as an Alpha wolf, in its largest, and most vicious of forms, leapt upon him, teeth and claws ripping through his flesh. His gun barked twice, both shots missing their mark complete, and his screams quickly became gurgling noises before the small clearing fell silent.

The Sheriff stared in a mix of shock and horror at the monstrous animal looming over the dead man's body, growls unlike anything he'd ever heard rumbling from the creature. It was dark in color, if it had fur it was very short, and its eyes weren't right. They glowed even though there was no light and they didn't glow the greenish-yellow the Sheriff associated with most large animal eye glow. The thing's eyes glowed red.

"What the hell is that," he whispered, starting to aim his gun at it only to be stopped when Stiles reached up and tugged his arm down.

"It's alright, Sheriff," Chris said as the animal approached them, needing to take only four steps. "He won't hurt us."

"He?!"

The Sheriff watched as the animal, which looked like a large canine of some kind, lowered its head, sniffing at Stiles, and a strange sort of whimpering whine sounded from its throat. Stiles, who was now shivering from shock and blood loss, lifted his right hand, the left once again clutching his father's, and the animal pushed its massive muzzle against his palm. Stiles made a weak, pain filled sound, turning his arm so his wrist was exposed to the animal, which whined again, head shaking slowly.

"You..." Stiles gasped softly, eyes filling with fresh tears and the animal made an almost distressed sound. As though it was upset to see Stiles in pain. "You promised..."

The animal whined again and the Sheriff was surprised when it licked at Stiles' wrist, a low rumble echoing from its chest suddenly. Before he could say anything or ask what the hell was going on, the animal's eyes glowed brighter and it bit into Stiles' wrist. The Sheriff made a low sound, starting to turn his gun on the animal again but this time it was Chris who stopped him, wrenching the gun away from him quickly. He looked at the man with wide eyes. Chris merely shook his head.

When the animal lowered its head, carefully resting Stiles' arm against the ground and finally released his wrist, the Sheriff watched as a small smile spread across his son's face. He still had no idea what was going on but his son didn't look to be in any more pain. He felt tears slip down his face as he realized that Stiles must be so far gone now that he couldn't feel the pain. He grabbed hold of his son's hand, holding it between both of his and whispered words of love. Telling his son how proud he was of him. How much he loved him. Stiles looked at him, still smiling and whispered "Love you too, Dad."

Then his eyes slipped shut.

The Sheriff felt unimaginable grief tear through him, the same grief he'd felt the night his wife had died, and a sob fell from his lips but before he could gather Stiles into his arms the animal moved and he ended up watching as it became something else. Shrinking and changing like a werewolf in a horror movie, the Sheriff watched as the animal became a man. A man he'd seen with Stiles several times over the last few months.

Peter Hale.

He looked at Chris and was even more shocked to find the man didn't look overly bothered or surprised by what had just happened. The Sheriff felt like his entire world was being turned upside down. Looking at Peter again he found the man was holding Stiles' hand, the bite mark on his son's wrist hidden from view.

"If..." Peter's voice was hoarse and the Sheriff suddenly noticed the tears in the man's eyes. Grief was etched in every line of his face. "If this doesn't work...Chris...I'd...I'd like you too..."

Chris gave a small nod, picking his gun.

"What the hell is going on," the Sheriff finally managed to croak, looking from Chris to Peter and back to Chris. "What are you..."

"Peter's a werewolf, Sheriff," Chris said calmly, rationally, one hand still covering the bullet wound in Stiles' torso. "An Alpha. It means there's a chance his bite can save Stiles."

"What? Heal him?"

"That's the basic idea, yes." Chris watched as Peter's body language gave away just how badly this was affecting the Alpha wolf. "But there's more. If it works, if the Bite takes, then Stiles will be like Peter."

The Sheriff looked at Peter.

"He'll be able to...to turn into..."

Chris shook his head. "He won't change like Peter can. He'll be a Beta, a second to his Alpha, but he will be a werewolf."

The Sheriff gripped his son's hand a little tighter. Still not understanding any of this but there was a chance his son wouldn't die. If this worked then...wait...if...if it worked. "You said if it takes...what does that mean? You don't know if it will?!"

"With the Bite it's a fifty-fifty chance," Peter whispered as his thumb rubbed over Stiles' wrist slowly. "He knew that...I told him...I didn't want...not like this..."

"He said you promised...what...what did he mean?"

Peter made a weak sound, almost like a whining dog. "I promised if...if something like this ever happened...I'd give him the Bite...knowing it might not work..."

"And that?" The Sheriff nodded to the gun Chris still held and Peter briefly looked at it before his gaze focused again on Stiles.

"It's difficult for Betas and Omegas to move on when they're mate dies," Chris said softly, remembering the few he'd encountered, all looking like they were lost. "For an Alpha it's next to impossible. I've seen Alphas waste away to nothing, refusing to eat or do anything, slowly succumbing to their grief. I won't let Peter suffer."

The Sheriff frowned, trying to wrap his head around everything he was learning. It was so much in such a short amount of time but something did stick out. "You said mate. What does that mean?"

"Like real wolves, werewolves take a mate." Beneath his hand Chris felt Stiles' breathing, which had been shallow and far too slow, begin to even out, deepening slightly. "They don't just randomly pick, it's an instinct for them. They see someone and know, almost immediately, that that person is their other half."

The Sheriff looked at Peter. "So you and Stiles..."

Peter gave a slow nod, moving his hand down Stiles' arm and the Sheriff saw the bite was gone.

"What the..."

"You know you guys all sound so sappy right now?"

Stiles' voice made the Sheriff jump slightly and he looked at his son's face, watching the color, what little there normally was at least, slowly returned as Stiles opened his eyes. Eyes that glowed a soft violet-blue. He heard Chris mutter something about latent wolf genes but before he could ask what the man was talking about, Stiles was sitting up and then yanked into Peter's arms. "Watch it!" He snapped, watching his son press close to Peter, worried about the gunshot wound. "He's still..."

His words died when Stiles turned, showing him that the wound was gone, and if not for the blood stained skin and shirt the Sheriff would never have known there had been a wound.

"It's okay, Dad," Stiles said softly, his eyes slowly returning to normal. "I'm okay."

The Sheriff blinked, staring at his son for a moment, before reaching out and pulling the boy into his arms, hugging him tightly. Stiles hugged him back, clinging too him in the way only one's child could, and he looked at Peter over the top of Stiles' head. "Thank you," he said as fresh tears fell down his face, not caring that Peter was a werewolf or that he'd turned Stiles into one, his only thought was that the man had saved his son's life. "Thank you."

Peter rumbled loudly, the red fading from his eyes as he reached out, lightly touching Stiles' shoulder. Wanting to hold his mate but knowing father and son needed their own moment of comfort. He hadn't wanted to turn Stiles, not under these sort of circumstances, but he knew he would forever be grateful that he had made, and kept, his promise.


	29. Family

Stiles pulled into the driveway, staring in confusion at the strange SUV parked next to his father's cruiser. He thought at first it might belong to Chris Argent, the man and his father had been spending a great deal of time together since the night Peter had given him the Bite, but when he looked at the SUV's plates he realized that wasn't the case. The plates indicated the SUV was from Washington State. Frowning, he parked behind his father's cruiser and sent a quick text to Peter, alerting the Alpha wolf to the presence of strangers, before he climbed from his Jeep, heading towards the house.

Walking inside he scented the air, catching strange, unfamiliar scents and hearing three heartbeats that most certainly did not belong. His eyes glowed momentarily before he managed to get himself under control. He waited for a few minutes, drawing deep, calming breaths before he headed for the kitchen where the newcomers and his father were.

He had just stepped through the doorway when his father turned, spotting him and giving a small smile. "Stiles," the Sheriff said as the three strangers, two men and a woman, also turned, looking at him. "I know you probably don't remember but this is your Uncle Benjamin." The Sheriff gestured to the tall dark haired man standing closest to him and Stiles inhaled slowly, calmly, his instincts suddenly screaming at him.

"You're a Beta." The words left Stiles mouth without a thought and Benjamin looked a tad surprised that he knew.

"I am," Benjamin said with a nod before looking at his companions. "This is my sister, your Aunt Anna, and her mate Rick."

Stiles looked at Anna, seeing a strong resemblance to his mom, and when she smiled, making herself look even more like his mom, his heart lurched a bit.

"It's so wonderful to see you again, Genim," Anna said warmly, stepping closer, arms lifting as though to embrace him but he instinctively stepped back. These people were strangers. Strange wolves at that. They were not Pack. He saw the hurt in Anna's eyes before she looked at his father, who merely watched, clearly out of his depth.

"Genim," Benjamin started but Stiles quickly cut him off.

"It's Stiles," the teen said firmly, watching closely, thankful now that the Bite had reined in his ADHD enough that he could focus so well. "No one calls me Genim anymore."

He didn't think about how Peter still called him that, in private moments and public ones, but he figured that was different. Peter was his mate after all.

"All right," Benjamin said with a nod. "Stiles, we're not here to hurt or scare you."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because you're father called us," Anna said and Stiles looked at his father who merely shrugged. "He was asking questions about Clarabelle, about the family, and we knew."

"Knew what?" Stiles gave her a sharp look, tucking his hands casually into his pockets, knowing they'd hear him typing on his phone, but he was a teenager after all, they'd probably just assume it's what he did. He sent the text to Peter, changing the _strangers_ status to _strange bunch of wolves_.

"You were a wolf." Anna smiled at him as though to tell him it was okay and they weren't judging but he knew there was more to this that what she was actually saying.

"And you just decided to hop in the car and drive on down to Beacon Hills to visit when I haven't seen you in God knows how long?" He shook his head, remembering how Peter always said wolves had a reason for the things they did, especially if they acted in a group. "I'm not buying that. Why are you really here?"

"You're a wolf, Stiles," Benjamin said as though that should have been answer enough. "You need a Pack. Otherwise you'll be in danger. Hunters will..."

"The Argents won't touch me." Stiles took a moment to enjoy the shocked expressions on their faces. "Chris even offered once to teach me how to use guns but my dad was the Sheriff so it wasn't a big deal."

"You know an Argent?" This question, barely whispered, came from Anna's mate, Rick, who looked a bit shell shocked. "And he didn't kill you?"

Stiles shrugged. "Chris is a good guy. Honourable. Lives by the Code completely. Not like his bat shit insane sister."

"Stiles," the warning tone from his father, the reminder that he wasn't supposed to speak ill of the dead, made him flinch a bit.

"There were rumours the Argents burned a local Pack to death," Benjamin said with a small nod.

"Not rumours." Stiles remembered just last night when Peter had woken up screaming, trapped in a nightmare of the night Kate had killed his family. "There was proof. You just had to look for it. Someone did. And Kate Argent isn't a threat anymore. Hell, she's not breathing anymore either."

"This...someone," Anna said, drawing Stiles gaze back to her, and he saw in her eyes she thought it had been him. "They killed her?"

"I do believe ripping her throat out would kill her, yes." Stiles shrugged as though it was no big deal. "But we're getting off topic here. You lot were explaining why you're here and don't give me that crap about me being a wolf."

"You need a Pack, Stiles," Benjamin said with a shake of his head. "Our family, your mother's family, are a Pack. We've come to take you home with us."

Stiles blinked, seeing the surprise on his father's face, clearly the Sheriff hadn't known that.

"Wait," the Sheriff said but Stiles ended up tuning the conversation out in favour of sending a text to Peter, updating his mate about what was going on. Seconds later he received a two word reply. **Outside. Now.** That worked for him. Turning on his heel he walked calmly out of the kitchen, hearing Benjamin shout after him but he ignored his fellow Beta. He didn't care if they were his mother's family. He already had a Pack and there was no way in hell he was leaving.

Not without a fight.

When he stepped out onto the porch he found Peter standing in the driveway and despite his mate being alone he knew the rest of the Pack were nearby, watching no doubt, waiting for a signal. Drawing a deep breath he calmly walked to his mate, who looked a bit edgy, which was definitely not a good sign. Wrapping his arms around Peter he pressed as close as he could to the Alpha wolf, not surprised when Peter began nuzzling his neck. It had become a comfort thing for both of them.

"Stiles? Who is this?" Benjamin's voice caused Stiles to slowly, oh so very slowly, pull away from his mate, turning to face his uncle all while stepping back to stand next to Peter's side.

Standing on the porch was the three wolves and the Sheriff, but the Sheriff was grinning and leaned back against the side of the house. "Oh did I forget to tell you, Ben," the Sheriff said, looking at his brother-in-law who looked momentarily confused. "This is Stiles' mate."

"His mate?" Anna looked from the Sheriff to Stiles and Peter, clearly taken by surprise.

"Yeah," the Sheriff said with a nod, still grinning. "His mate."

Peter made a low sound, drawing the attention of the three wolves, and his eyes glowed red, claws extending.

"Holy shit," Rick whispered stepping back and dropping his gaze instinctively. Anna and Ben had no problem staring Peter down.

"You never said there was an Alpha in Beacon Hills," Benjamin said sharply, glaring at the Sheriff for a moment. "Let alone that he is my nephew's mate!"

"I suggest you mind your tone, Beta," Peter said, using a tone of voice that Stiles liked to say was his Psycho Wolf tone. "You've already come into my land uninvited or announced and you're threatening to take my mate. Now your growling at a member of my Pack."

"Pack?" Benjamin chuckled and shook his head. "There's no Pack in Beacon Hills not since the...Hale..."

Benjamin slowly stopped speaking, watching as a group walked up behind Stiles and his mate.

"Uncle Benjamin," Stiles said, drawing his uncle's attention. "Meet the Hale Pack. Peter is one of the Alphas."

"One of?"

Derek rumbled where he stood next to Peter, eyes blazing red, and Benjamin swallowed thickly, surprised that a Pack could have two Alphas. "This...This isn't possible," the Beta said as he looked to his sister, hoping she had something useful to say in this situation, but she looked as lost and confused as he felt.

"Actually it is," Stiles said with a grin, looking around at his friends. His Pack. "See, Derek Hale," he pointed to Derek. "Is the last son of Michael and Cassandra Hale. He's also our primary Alpha. Then there's Peter." He took hold of Peter's hand. "He's Michael Hale's brother and our secondary Alpha." He looked around at the Pack again, still grinning. "And though we all may look like a ragtag group of misfits we are a Pack."

Benjamin sputtered but it was Anna who found her voice first.

"Stiles, I understand they are a Pack but...but none of them are old enough to understand...or protect themselves or you from the dangers out there."

"Actually," Lydia spoke up from where she stood next to Stiles, flipping her hair over her shoulder in true Lydia Martin style. "We've already dealt with a lot. There was that psycho Alpha who killed Kate Argent and all the people responsible for the Hale House Fire. Then there was the Kanima. Then the constant threat of the hunters. Not to mention fairies, witches, giant killer clams, porcupine monsters and...well the list goes on and on really. And we're all still kicking."

Anna blinked, clearly surprised by Lydia's declaration. "You're...You're human."

Lydia hummed softly. "Yes, though not for someone's lack of trying." She glanced at Peter, who smiled at her wolfishly, and she rolled her eyes. "And you lot, from what I know of the Law, are trespassing and attempting to steal a member of our Pack. Not good, especially considering said member is an Alpha's mate."

Peter growled deeply and Stiles couldn't help but smile.

"We're not trying to steal anyone," Benjamin argued, looking at Peter. "He's my sister's son. My blood. He should be with our Pack. With our family."

Stiles made a low sound, a cross between a growl and a rumble, causing the three Betas on the porch to all look at him.

"You listen to me, and listen really well because I'm not saying it again," he snarled as his eyes went violet and his claws extended. " _This_ ," he gestured to the Pack. "Is my family. My father is my family. You are strangers. People I haven't seen since my mother's funeral."

He stepped away from Peter then, letting go of the Alpha's wolf hand, he stared down his uncle. "I am _not_ going anywhere with you. Not now. Not ever." His hands flexed, claws scratching against his jeans. "I'm staying right here, with my Pack, with my family and you're going to leave. Because the next time you come to Pack territory unannounced, no matter the reason, I will follow the Law."

He saw Anna's eyes widen at the meaning behind his words, not surprised when her mate stepped up and pulled her into his arms, whispering in her ear. Benjamin on the other hand didn't look impressed. "You're a Beta, Stiles," the older Beta said, ignoring the glare the Sheriff sent his way. "You can't..."

"I can." Peter and Derek spoke in unison, causing Benjamin to twitch. No doubt he'd fought down his natural instinct to submit to the Alphas growling at him.

"Stiles is part of our Pack," Peter said as Derek nodded. "He's my mate. You've no claim to him. Now, you're going to leave, and the only way you're coming back is if you're invited by Stiles."

Benjamin looked like he wanted to argue but he knew he and the others had broken the Law. With a nod, one that looked a little forced, he led his sister and her mate to the SUV. Anna and Rick climbed in immediately but Benjamin lingered, looking at Stiles.

"We're family," Benjamin said calmly, ignoring the warning growl from Peter. "You're mother was..."

"My mother was human," Stiles said firmly, shaking his head as he stepped back, Peter's arm wrapping instantly around his waist. "She didn't want me raised around your Pack."

"You don't know that!"

"I do." Peter's voice was calm, his hand curling possessively around Stiles' hip. "When Clarabelle first moved to Beacon Hills Michael offered her a place in our Pack. She refused. She chose to live as a human. Chose her husband and son over her heritage. So you do not get to use her against Stiles. Now leave. Because if you continue to try and take my mate I will rip your head off and use it as a new lawn ornament."

Benjamin looked like he wanted to argue but he finally climbed into the SUV and the Pack parted long enough to let it leave. When the black vehicle disappeared down the road, Stiles turned and pressed against Peter, hugging his mate tightly before the rest of the Pack moved, touching his arm or shoulder, even Lydia who was human, instinct insisting that they check that Stiles was okay.

Stiles couldn't help but smile against Peter's neck.

Yes, this was his family.


	30. Future

"You want to what?!"

Peter couldn't help but smile at his mate's outburst. "I want us to have a baby."

Stiles blinked. "Umm...Peter...unless you haven't noticed lately, it's a bit impossible for us to have a baby."

Peter's smile widened as he reached over, pulling his mate down until Stiles was straddling his lap. "Not impossible," he said as he nuzzled Stiles' neck, not surprised at the whimper he received in response or the way Stiles' fingers tangled in his hair. "I have a friend, a Beta, who has expressed her willingness to be a surrogate for us."

Stiles, who had been relaxing in Peter's arms, stiffened suddenly and Peter saw his normally dark eyes go violet. Not good. "You've been talking to some...some woman about this before even mentioning it to me?!"

"Lilia and I..." Peter ignored Stiles sudden growl. "Have been friends since childhood. We spoke of her being a surrogate for me and my mate long before you and I found each other." He nuzzled Stiles' neck again, hoping to calm his mate. An angry Stiles, he had learned, was not a good thing. Well, not for him at least.

Stiles grunted as he rubbed his face against Peter's shoulder. "You could have led with that, you know?"

Peter rubbed a hand up and down Stiles' back, soothing his mate. "So now that we have clarified Lilia and her role in all this, will you think about having a baby with me?"

Stiles slowly lifted his head, face unreadable as he regarded Peter. "I've already got some questions," he said as he began carding his fingers through Peter's hair. "Which of us is going to be the one impregnating Miss Lilia? Because if we want the baby to be a werewolf it'll have to be you because of my mixed heritage."

Peter gave a nod, fully understanding what Stiles was saying. Having wolf ancestors but being born human to two human parents lowered Stiles chances of ever having children who would be wolf even though he was a wolf now.

"I would like our child to be a wolf," Peter admitted and Stiles hummed softly, thumb brushing lightly over the Alpha wolf's temple. "So I suppose it will be me who, as you said, impregnates Lilia."

"Okay, next question, where will we live? I mean...the house..."

"When we renovated the house was built as it had been when I was a child," Peter cut in, knowing where Stiles was going with his question. "So it's actually big enough to house five or six families comfortably. Wolves are..."

"Social, yeah, I know." Boy did Stiles know. Since becoming one in his junior year of high school he'd found out just how social wolves really were. Boyd and Derek still acted like the big brothers Stiles never particularly wanted. "So we'll still live at the Hale House. Cool. I hate moving."

Peter chuckled, remembering how after college Stiles had complained about having to drag everything from his father's house out to the Hale House. It had taken the better part of a day and a half to do and the entire time Stiles had complained.

"We'll have to set up a nursery," Peter pointed out but Stiles hummed faintly.

"That's different, you go and buy stuff and it's already packed and stuff. We just have the fun job of putting it together...oh! Or we could make Scott do it!"

Peter laughed at the gleam in Stiles' eye. Scott was many things, all good of course, but putting things together or fixing broken things was not one of his strong points. "Evil little mate," the Alpha wolf chuckled, nipping lightly at Stiles' chin, which made Stiles smirk.

"So...we're really going to do this?" Stiles eyes held many emotions but Peter could clearly see the hope and the uncertainty. "We're...We're going to have a baby?"

"If you want to..."

"I wouldn't have asked where we were going to live and all the other stuff if I hadn't already decided." Stiles tugged Peter's hair a bit. "I...I'll admit I'm worried about it and stuff...hell I don't think anyone who becomes a parent isn't...but...but I want to do this. With you."

Peter smiled, pressing a quick and tender kiss to Stiles lips. "You're wonderful, you know that?"

Stiles hummed softly. "I know, it just takes everyone else a while to see it."

Still smiling, Peter slipped his hands beneath Stiles' thighs, holding onto the younger man as he stood, causing Stiles to yelp in surprise as he carried his mate to the bed, carefully laying him down and leaning down over him. Stiles made a soft, needy sound when Peter nuzzled his neck, fingers still tangled in the Alpha wolf's dark curls. "Want to practice making the baby now," Stiles asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows, making Peter laugh before kiss him.

_oOoOoOo_

Nine months later and Stiles was pacing outside the hospital room where Lilia was giving birth. Only one person had been allowed in with her and Stiles had shoved Peter through the door, telling him to be there for her and the baby. That had been hours ago and with each passing minute Stiles was getting more and more agitated. Derek had told him twice to sit down before he wore a hole in the floor only to be glared at and ignored. Turning on his heel, about to begin pacing again he came to a halt when he came face to face with Melissa McCall. She did not look impressed.

Before he could say anything she grabbed him by the arm, hauling him over to where everyone else was sitting, and pushed him towards an empty chair. "Sit down," she snapped in a tone he immediately recognized as the _I don't care how old you are I'm the mother figure here_ tone and he sat. "Now stay there. A nurse or Peter will come tell you when it's done. This is something you can't rush, Stiles." Melissa looked at Derek. "If he starts to move, for any reason other than getting a coffee or going to the bathroom, I expect you to keep him in that chair."

Derek gave a quick nod, and for a moment Stiles remembered one afternoon, years ago when that Alpha Pack had invaded and Scott had been hurt, Melissa flying off the handle at Derek, angry and scared as she had been had made her forgot completely about Derek being an Alpha. Everyone had expected Derek to yell back or at least wolf out. But he'd stared at her for a moment before smiling. She'd stopped shouting then asked why he was smiling. He'd told her that she reminded him of his mother.

It had taken all of two seconds for Melissa to remember what had happened to Derek's mother and she'd quickly pulled him into a hug, which he'd returned, shocking the entire Pack, all the while saying she hadn't meant half of what she'd said, she was just scared and worried about everyone. After that Melissa became a sort of surrogate mother to the entire Pack. Even Derek would relent if she gave him a certain look and for an Alpha that was a big deal.

So Stiles knew he wasn't going to be moving from the chair any time soon.

Melissa waited for a moment before giving a nod and walking off to do whatever she was supposed to be doing. Stiles watched her go, hands twitching against his knees and his gaze continuously going to the door to the room where Lilia and Peter were. His body itched to get up, to move, to do something other than just sit here, but he knew Derek would do as Melissa had asked so he forced himself to stay sitting.

"Everything's fine, Stiles," Derek said, touching Stiles' arm to try and calm the young Beta.

"It's been hours." Stiles fiddled with the ring he was wearing, had worn for years now. "What if..."

Derek cuffed him in the back of the head, making him yelp and glare at the Alpha wolf.

"You need to stop worrying." Derek shook his head. "No birth is as straightforward as the books make it seem. Lilia and the baby are fine."

Stiles made a low sound and continued to be rather agitated, twitching and shifting the way he was sitting, leg bouncing with nervous energy as time slowly drug on. He managed to sit completely still though when Lydia showed up, handing him a coffee and chatting about meaningless town council stuff, just to distract him. She had just started to say how she and Jackson were thinking about having a baby of their own when a nurse emerged from Lilia's room.

"Mr Hale?"

Stiles was instantly on his feet and the nurse gestured for him to follow her. She led him into the room and he felt the breath leave him when he was greeted by the sight of Lilia, propped up on pillows, holding the baby against her chest, Peter hovering by the side of the bed, looking all proud father and protective Alpha.

"Hey, you," Lilia said as she looked up at him, smiling tiredly. "Come meet your son."

Stiles walked slowly, eyes fixed on the tiny infant in Lilia's arms, feeling for a moment that he could blink and everything would vanish. When he finally reached the bed he swallowed thickly, looking down at the baby and his heart began beating faster, which made Lilia smile sleepily and Peter grin knowingly. He carefully sat on the edge of the bed after Lilia patted the spot beside her, eyes never wavering from the baby. A dark patch of hair graced the tiny head and the pale little face, just a bit red in the cheeks, was relaxed in sleep.

Before he could speak, or even really think of anything to say, Lilia was placing the baby in his arms, showing him how to hold the newborn. Part of him was terrified he was going to drop or hurt the baby but after a little whimpering, too which Stiles instantly began cooing, gently rocking the baby. It took only a few minutes before the baby settled again, sleeping contently in Stiles' arms.

Looking up at Peter, Stiles found his mate smiling at him and their son, love shining in those bright blue eyes. Smiling brightly he looked back down at the baby, easily able to envision a future as a family, and that really wasn't as frightening a thought as Stiles had once thought it would be.


End file.
